


Peter Parker One Shots

by Xoxo_Sadie21



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, F/M, Imagines, Infinity Gauntlet, One Shot, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Reader inserts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-12 20:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 47,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12967812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xoxo_Sadie21/pseuds/Xoxo_Sadie21
Summary: Title Says It All!





	1. Pinky Promise

You had known peter ever since you were toddlers, growing up in the same neighborhood and learning to care for each other throughout the years, sticking up for each other with everything. Till this day you both are glued to the hip and rarely go anywhere without the other. You've both had your ups and downs but never had you and Peter gotten into a serious argument.

Without bothering to knock, you walked through Peter's front door and the smell of cookies wafered through the air. "I've come home to my second family!" You yelled in a sing-song voice and stepped into the kitchen where Aunt May stood bending over the oven, test tasting the cookie batter. "Smells amazing, May." You gave her a quick peck on the cheek and dipped your finger into the bowl.

"Tastes even better."

She gave you a small smile, "Thank you, sweetheart."

"Pete in his room?" You asked and she nodded, too concentrated on the cooking to actually look back at you.

Without any further ado, you skipped all the way to Peter's room and knocked hyper-actively quick, a shit-eating grin on your face. "Peter, open the damn--" the door swung open and you tackled him to the floor in a bear hug.

You hadn't seen him all day because he had stayed home sick and during school you didn't feel the same without him by your side. So you decided to come to his house right after school and play video games with him, even to talk about how your day was.

Peter always loved to hear about your day, even when he was sick or not in the mood. He loved watching the way your facial expression changed whenever you talked about the gossip at school or what had happened to you.

"Ow--shit!" Peter let out a groan as you both tumbled to the floor. You had practically pounced on him, but usually that was how you greeted him, sometimes you socked his arm or squeezed his cheeks together and gave him a huge smile. It all depended on the type of day.

You laughed while still laying on top of him with that huge grin on your face. Peter couldn't help himself because soon he was beaming up at you, and though you couldn't see it, there was adoration in those brown eyes.

"I missed you at school today," you pouted and Peter's heart sped up at the sight and simple action. "I had to sit all by myself at lunch and I didn't have anyone to tell my stupid jokes to."

He breathed out a laugh and tucked a stray hair behind your ear, though he felt the whole world rush through him, you didn't feel any different from all the other times he had done that. To you, it was a simple best friend gesture nothing for you to worry about.

"I'm sorry, love," he brought his hands in front of him and gave you puppy dog eyes and begged jokingly. "Please don't hate me."

You pretended to think about it, then suddenly socked his arm like all the other times. "I could never hate you," you giggled and the sound was like music to Peter's ears. "You're my best friend."

That's when Peter tried not to let his face drop because he loved you even before he knew what the word love meant. You just couldn't see it. You were so oblivious to all the times he went out of his way to be there for you, too oblivious to all of those times you both went to every school dance together. You just couldn't see the way he looked at you, couldn't decipher all the different smiles he had when he was with you, nor how deeply and irresistibly in love he was with you. Because you could never see past him being your best friend. It never even once crossed your mind.

You hopped up and offered Peter a hand before walking over to his bed and plopping down on it. "How 'bout you actually let me win you in Call Of Duty and we can call it even?" You brushed a piece of your hair behind your ears.

Peter grinned, despite the ache in his heart of the knowledge of you never loving him as more than a friend, and set up the X-Box. "That's a deal."

"Pinky promise?" You raised your pinky towards him and it took everything in him not to kiss you then and then because of how adorable you were.

He smiled, somewhat in a daze and linked his pinky through yours. "Pinky promise."

"Hey, and since it's the weekend," you grinned mischievously, fishing out your cellphone. "We can order pizza."

//

"My best friend is getting his ass-whooped!" You hollered in a sing-song voice and fist pumped in the air before having both hands on the controller.

Peter side glanced at you and his lips twitched up in the barest of smiles. It was days like these where he was on cloud-9, just to be sitting this close to you, elbow grazing elbow, thigh touching thigh.

He laughed, "Only because I'm letting you whoop my ass," he paused and realized he could've said that differently which made him blush a crimson. "I-I-I mean you aren't literally whooping my ass--because that would be weird."

Suddenly, you had paused the game and turned to look at your stuttering best friend. With raised eyebrows, you shifted on your spot to face him. "Are you okay, Pete?" There was a mixture of amusement and concern etched into your features.

He took in the amusement on your face and his face flushed even more. He had never felt this embarrassed in front of you, well there was a couple times in middle school, but that's beside the point.

"Y-yeah," he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile.

"I'm gonna blame you being sick on this one," you chuckled and grabbed another piece of pizza, shoving half of it in your mouth. With still half of the pizza hanging from your mouth, you grabbed the controller and smirked. "Reffy?"

 


	2. pms

You groaned in pain and twirled around in your blankets. Today was not your day and for reasons you couldn't and refused to get out of bed.

"Ugh, why do I have to be a girl?" You whimpered and pushed your face deeper into the pillow. "It's not fair!"

"Tell me about it," your mother hollered as she passed your bedroom, huffing as she did so.

"Oh, please, mother," you groaned. "You don't have to have your period anymore."

"No, but I still remember the aches, the cramps, and the food cravings." She snickered from the kitchen loud enough for you to hear.

"Food?" You lifted the pillow from your face and as if on cue your stomach grumbled. "I want food."

"What would you like me to make you?" Your mother walked into your room with an amused grin plastered on her face.

"Grilled cheese, please," you smiled happily. "Oh! And maybe some of your homemade chocolate chip cookies?"

She smiled, "You got it, Princess."

If it were any other situation you would've rolled your eyes, but since you were emotional and couldn't find the time to be mad, you loved hearing your mother call you 'princess' because it made you feel better and loved.

You laid in your bed, tossing and turning for another ten minutes before finally your cellphone rang. With a huff, you crawled out from under your blankets and reached for your phone on the night stand beside you.

"Girl in pain speaking, how may I help you?"

You could hear a sigh of relief on the other end of the line, "You aren't at school, I was worried. Why are you in pain? Do you need me over there? Wait, where are you exactly?"

With a roll of your eyes, you opened your mouth, "Hi, Pete. I know, I'm sorry. I should've called to let you know I was staying home. I'm...sick," you paused, not wanting to tell your best friend that you were on your period. "And no, stay in school. I'm fine."

There was a long pause on the other end and you could tell that Peter was arguing with himself over whether or not he should drop out and come to your aid, or to stay in school like you asked. Your best friend was always so difficult when it came to you, when it came to anything actually.

"Okay," he breathed out. "I'll be over there after school."

And before you could argue and tell him 'no', he had already hung up the phone and you were left with an annoying beeping sound.

"Ugh!" You threw your phone onto your bed with a grumble and clutched your stomach. "Mom, why are boys so stubborn? Wait, let me rephrase that: why is _Peter_ so stubborn?!"

"Because he's a boy, sweetheart," you mother's joyous laugh could be heard from the kitchen and you fell back into the cushioned pillows behind you. "And he cares about you too much to let you suffer alone."

"He doesn't listen to me half the time, and I find it highly annoying." Though, you knew a part of you also found it somewhat adorable that he cared about you so much.

Without a second though, your mother walked into your room with a plate of two grilled cheese sandwiches and a side of five cookies and milk. You beamed up at her and sat up in your bed.

"You are the world's greatest mother. Did you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," she waved off your compliment and kissed your forehead. Turning around, she started to leave before you could hear her mumbling under breath, "kiss ass."

"Hey," you giggled. "I heard that!"

Hours later, you were still suffering from cramps and aches. You laid cuddled up in your blankets and tissues strewn around you in a messy heap. Earlier you had decided to watch a sappy romance movie, and it proved to be a bad decision because now you were in tears.

"That was terrible!" You cried out and blew your nose with a used up tissue. "Why are all of these movies so sad?"

"What I wanna know is why do you even watch them in the first place."

You turned at the sound of Peter's voice and tears flew more freely down your cheeks. He stood in your doorway with a bag of chips, Ben & Jerry's ice cream, and a horror movie.

You instantly sat up in your bed and outstretched your arms, "I need cuddles, you dweeb," you hiccuped and Peter's face softened at the sight of you so vulnerable. He got ready to put the bag full of snacks down, but you tsked at him. "Peter Parker, don't you dare leave all that food on the floor."

He visibly gulped and brought the bag over to your side, "Your mom told me you were in one of your moods, so I bought these before I came over."

Whenever you have one of your moods, you never have the guts to actually tell him you were on your period, but he knew just what you needed. Peter was one of those innocent boys who didn't have a clue as to what happened to a girl every month. No one ever told him, and you were slightly thankful for that.

"Thank you, Pete." You sniffled and brought him in for a hug. Though he was a little uncomfortable because of all of the used tissues. "Why are you so nice to me?"

Peter wrapped his arms around your mid-section and his stomach did back flips at the close proximity. He laid his chin gently on the top of your head and breathed in your shampoo. "Because you are my best friend and I would do anything for you."

"Aaaaaaand this is why I love you," you smiled and felt his body tense instantly though just as fast as you could blink you felt wetness seep through your sweats and froze. " _Ohhhh shit_."

"What? What is it? Another cramp?" Peter sat up and looked down at you, but you were fast and threw the blankets over yourself before he could see the blood.

With your cheeks turning pink, you looked up at Peter. "No, it's nothing. Hey, Pete? Can you give me a minute?"

He hesitated with furrowed brows and you waited impatiently, feeling more blood stain the sheets beneath you. "Let me help you--"

"Peter, please." Your voice came out hoarse and your face flushed even more. "Just ten minutes."

As if on cue, your mother stepped into your room, having heard everything and threw Peter a smile. "Why don't you come help me finish making these cookies, yeah?"

You silently thanked your mom and she nodded in understanding before dragging a very confused Peter away from you. After shutting the door, you instantly hopped out of bed and locked the door just in case. You groaned and looked at the damage that was done, a big blood stain had been covered on your butt and the sheets to your bed.

"FUCKING SHIT BALLS!"

"Language!" You heard your mother call out from the kitchen, just barely making out Peter's worried voice, "Are you sure she's okay?"

You made sure to tidy up quick, and took the sheets off your mattress before Peter walked in. You changed out of your sweats and slipped a darker shade of gray sweats on then changed your tampon before grabbing a towel and laying it across the blood stain. Then walked into your closet and grabbed fresh and clean sheets, slipping them over the towel.

You were exhausted; you hardly ever got up and did anything when your period came. All you wanted to do was sleep all day and watch sappy love movies.

There was a knock on your door and you walked over to it, unlocked it and smiled at a nervous Peter. "Everything is well, Parker." You mocked in a fake English accent, making his lips twitch slightly.

He walked in and you yawned slightly, looking out the window to see the night sky and all of the stars. "It's already dark?" You turned to see Peter watching you curiously and you blushed. "Stop being so quiet, would ya? You're making me nervous."

He sighed and walked over to your bed, thankfully not noticing the change in sheets or your sweats. You blew out air and turned on your television once more, One Missed Call already showing the beginning credits of the movie.

You turned back around and raised an eyebrow at your best friend, then smirked as his face dropped. He knew what you were about to do and before he could react, you pounced on him, landing on him with your head on his chest.

"Ah, so comfy," you snuggled closer. "You're like a giant pillow, Pete! Jesus, when did you get so buff?"

His chuckle vibrated through his chest and he wrapped his arms around you. Though he knew you meant it as a rhetorical question, he pressed his chin on top of your head and smiled.

"Stay over tonight?" You lifted your head and found that you were only inches away from his face, you could feel his hot breath fan your skin. Your toes tingled and you shuddered at the proximity. You briefly watched his moisten his lips as he stared at your lips also making the tingling sensation travel to your inner thighs.

 _Damn hormones_...

"I'll call Aunt May and ask, but I'm sure I can if I tell her that you aren't feeling well." Peter replied and inhaled sharply as you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ears.

"Thank you," you laid your head back down on his chest and felt him tighten his embrace around your waist. You breathed in and exhaled out nervously, feeling your hormones raging within you.

 _He's your best friend, don't be stupid Y/N!_ You thought to yourself, _Plus you wouldn't be able to get away with anything since the bedroom door is open and your mother is in fact home, ya dingus!_

"Y/N?" Peter whispered out roughly and you looked up at him through hooded eyes.

"Yes?"

"I really wanna kiss you, but I..." He was trembling now, not knowing what else to say as you stared at him, shock evident in your posture and your features.

"But what, Peter?" You breathed out and leaned in, almost brushing your lips against his, you felt him froze and your inner goddess roared.

_Now you gone and done it! You got him turned on! Can't turn back now._

"The problem is," he said as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. "If I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop."

 _God!_ You practically screamed inside your head. _Damnit, Peter! Why do you have to be so goddamn fucking cute??_ You wanted to kiss him, you really did, but your mother was right outside.

Your breathing became labored and a shuddered breath escaped you. With furrowed brows, you sat up and shook your head, watching as Peter's face dropped. "I don't think that would be the most greatest idea we've had," you laughed softly and gestured a thumb to the opened door. "My mom is right outside." You whispered the last part and realization struck across his face.

A small smile was plastered across his lips and he laid a gentle hand on your thigh, that was leaning really close to your inner thigh. "I honestly forgot about that--I'm sorry."

Your face flushed, "It's fine, Parker." You cleared the sexual images from your head with a shake and laughed clearly trying to change the subject. "I need to take a shower."

Peter watched your retreating figure as you walked out the door and into the bathroom across the hall. A love-smitten grin danced across his face, though clearly he went pale at the realization of what almost just happened.

He smacked himself, " _Stupid_."

 


	3. Headlights

  
  


"Peter, goddamnit! You don't listen!" You slammed your fist down on the nearest table beside you and felt the rage build up in your chest. You and your boyfriend had gotten into an argument, and it felt that it was all the two of you did ever since his Uncle Ben died. You couldn't get him to think properly, he was always getting himself in trouble, always almost getting himself killed and you couldn't take it anymore. You had finally snapped.

"I'm trying to explain to you--" Peter had tried to say, but you cut him off with a growl.

"No, Peter...I'm done trying to listen to you explain to me that you might not be home the next time you go out and fight the bad guys." You stood up and cracked your knuckles before brushing past your boyfriend and into your bedroom.

He followed you of course, not knowing what to say, not wanting to make you even more angry. He stood silently by the door and watched as you grabbed you things.

"(Y/n), please don't go..." His voice was low and filled with so much emotion that if you stopped you would stay, but you couldn't stay and watch him throw his life away.

You sniffled, "I can't bare the thought of you getting hurt, Pete. Don't you get that?" You stopped in your tracks, right in front of him as he leaned on the door frame.

Peter's face dropped and he took a step towards you only for you to take a step back, flinching at the contact of his skin almost touching yours. He had hurt you and he hated hurting you because whether or not you knew, you were his world. He would do anything for you.

"I need to protect the people of this city," he hung his head with guilt clearly in his voice, you could hear the hoarseness in it. "it's my job."

You took a step back as if he had slapped you across the face, "Peter, your job is to protect yourself, to keep yourself safe," you mumbled out, feeling the tears slip past your eyelids and down your cheeks.

Peter sighed heavily, "Y/N..."

"No, I get it--you'll be okay...you'll be fine...But what about me?" You became livid, "Don't do this for yourself, goddamnit! Do it for me! Think about what I will be going through when you're gone! Okay? Just think about that!"

You stomped off and past Peter who was crying silently, not bothering to hide the fact that he was actually crying in front of you. You stopped in your tracks, but felt your heart sink at his hurt, you had caused this, but you were hurt too and he needed to see that. You grabbed your keys off the counter- top and before you had a chance to leave, Peter had grabbed your arm and stopped you.

"Where are you going?" He whimpered as his hands fell down your sides, he deflated right in front of you. You could see the complete hurt you caused. "Please, don't leave mad..."

You blinked and felt more tears fall, but avoided his pleaded eyes, "I need some time to myself right now, Peter."

When you finally looked at him, he was completely petrified and miserable and it killed you. But you couldn't and refused to talk to him when you were beyond infuriated, you were scared of losing him to this awful world.

"You should go home, Pete." And before you let him say anything else to stop you, you gently pushed past his arm, noticing the way his face paled at the sight of you leaving him.

"Are you breaking up with me?" He turned to face you and you gulped slightly at his trembling lips and puffy eyes that were filled with tears. He sniffled as you hesitated with your answer.

You took a step back, and avoided his stare. "I don't know." Without anything else you walked away from your whole world and didn't look back.

::

Twenty minutes later, you were driving down the highway with a bottle of hard liquor in your hands and the radio blasted. There were several missed calls from Peter on your phone, but you were in no mood to call him back. You were emotional as you sped down the narrow bridge, not caring about other passersby.

You took a chug from the bottle you held in your hand, swiveling slightly on the road as others honked at you. "Screw you!" You shouted out of the window, keeping one hand on the wheel while the other held the bottle.

Tears were streaming down your face but there were no sobs coming from you, no cries of hurt or exhaustion, there was just tears. You mumbled incoherently under your breath as your phone rang for the millionth time that night. You broke eye contact with the road for a minute to reach down and grab your phone that fell to the floorboard of your car. Unknowingly, without having much control you swerved out of line, lights blared from a semi-truck from head on and you heaved yourself up with your phone in your hand, turning the wheel quickly.

"Hello?" You answered, keeping one hand on the wheel, swiveling from here and there, momentarily wishing you hadn't bought the bottle of hard liquor.

Peter's voice cracked, "Where are you?"

"On the bridge back home," you stumbled on your words and they came out slurred obviously giving it away that you were drunk.

Peter noticed and you could hear his worried voice on the other line, "And you're drunk--are you crazy? What were you thinking?"

"I'm not even that drunk--" you swerved again, this time coming very close to grazing a car to your left. "Shit." You blew out and settled your heavy beating heart down.

"I'm coming to you," he breathed out and you could hear rummaging on the other end, he was getting ready to come find you. "You'll get hurt--or worse--killed." You could definitely hear the nostalgia in his voice.

"I'm f-fine, Peter." You mumbled out, your eyes trained somewhere other than the road. "I'll be home--" you didn't get to finish as honking filled your eardrums. You slammed on the breaks and the impact had you sliding forwards as your head came into contact with the steering wheel, the phone knocking out of your hand. As it fell, you could hear Peter's frantic shouts. You had skidded into the middle of the road, more honking blared through your eardrums.

"(Y/n)!"

As you picked your head up from the wheel, lights blurred your vision, and you weren't fast enough to reach for the phone. It all came so fast. The semi-truck hit you from the side, sending the car falling off the bride.

You awaited for the impact, but when it never came you slowly opened your eyes to see that you were only fifteen feet from hitting the water. Tears streamed more freely down your cheeks and you looked up to see Peter had slung multiple webs to keep the car from falling any further.

"Hold on, baby!" You could hear him shouting, but you knew he couldn't hold the vehicle for long.

"P-Peter..."

"No! It's okay--just," he groaned from the weight of the car, but never thinking of letting it go. "Just don't move!"

You slowly swiveled in your seat as the car tipped further. Your breathing had caught in your throat as you looked down at the twinkling water below you.

Peter managed to tie the end of his webs to the railing on the bridge, "I'm coming down, okay?" He shouted down at you, fear lacing his lungs.

You nodded and squeezed your eyes tight. With steady breaths, you waited patiently for Peter to come for you. As he neared you opened your eyes and spotted his red and blue suit on top of the hood of the car.

A crowd had formed up above on the bridge, watching the new city's hero try to save you. People had their cellphones out, filming the whole scene before them.

"Grab my hand, baby." Once you heard Peter's voice you sighed with relief, and reached for his hand, but the car creaked making you shriek. "Hey, hey! It's okay--all you have to do is take my hand, alright?"

You nodded numbly and climbed the seats to reach for Peter's hand and as the car finally gave out, your hand slipped into Peter's strong one just as he flung a web to the top railing of the bridge. You were in his arms and you clung to him, shaking from fear.

Peter breathed out with relief, and he gripped you tightly in his arms. "Hey," he tipped your chin up, clearly seeing you were in shock. "It's okay. You're safe. I got you, alright?"

You're eyes were still squeezed shut, "I'm sorry." Your voice came out small and scratchy and had your arms wrapped around Peter's neck, clinging safely to him.

"Shh," he whispered and pressed a kiss to your forehead as a shudder filled him. He had almost lost you and it terrified him immensely. As he held you in his arms, he wished to never let you go.

And that was his promise to you; he would never let you leave him again.


	4. Still Falling For You

  
  
Growing up, you never would've thought that you'd fall in love. Especially not with your best friend, but you two had been through everything together and you got through it with everything you had. He was always there for you and you were always there for him.

Currently, you were at your boyfriend's house in his room while the both of you looked through old pictures of the two of you from way back when. One of Peter's hands was playing with your hair while the other rested on your thigh. You were in between his legs as the both of you laid on his bed.

"Look, Pete!" You laughed and showed your boyfriend a picture of the two of you covered in dirt with wild and huge smiles on your faces. "How old were we here?"

He leaned in closer and examined the picture, "It had to have been when we were eight."

You grabbed Peter's hand that was on your thigh and interlocked your fingers through his. "Those were some good times," you whispered and he brought your interlocked hands up to press a light kiss against your knuckles. "Remember that one time when we had a sleep over at your house and we stayed up really late just to sneak cookies into your room?"

You could feel his chest vibrate as he laughed, you smiled. "Oh god, yes. Of course I remember," he kept playing with your hair and you felt your eyelids began to grow heavy with sleep. "I remember you wore those cute Superman pajamas to bed and I couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful you were."

You entangled your legs with his and hummed softly, "You kept telling me that they looked really good on me." You snickered then pushed the book full of pictures aside and turned so that the front part of your body was laying on his front as well.

You looked up at him and sighed with content, "I love you so goddamned much, Peter Parker, y'know that?"

Peter looked at you with you could only decipher as pure love and leaned forward to press his lips softly against yours. You moaned and sat up only to wrap your legs around his waist. He pulled you closer and kissed you harder and you smiled against his lips.

When the both of you pulled apart, Peter had laid his forehead gently against yours and started adoringly into your eyes. "I love you more."

Your face flushed at such intensity and he cupped your cheeks, inching closer to plant a delicate and soft kiss to your lips once more. You felt the whole world rush through you and at that moment you couldn't imagine your life without him. The feeling alone made you sick to your stomach and you closed your eyes as Peter gazed at you.

"Don't leave me," you breathed out in a low whisper. "Ever."

When you reopened your eyes, Peter had this determined look that crossed over his face. "I will never leave you, okay? You wanna know why?"

You glanced up at him, hopeful, "Why?"

"Because there is no me if there is no you."

You sat there in silence for a few seconds before bursting into a fit of giggles, "Peter, did you just use a Supernatural reference?"


	5. Rescue Me

"I know," you sighed as you managed to multi-task; typing up a report for your boss while holding the phone and talking to your best friend. "I know I said I would be there...but, Pete, I'm slammed. Boss man has me working the late night shift."

There was a long sigh filled with disappointment on the other end of the call. You felt excruciatingly horrible for bailing out on your plans with Peter once again, but you blamed your boss for keeping you so late.

" _Okay..._ " There was a small pause. " _Just let me know when you get off work--I can swing by, if you'd like._ "

You smiled while absentmindedly typing some more, your fingers growing sore from typing all day. You took a drink of your coffee before speaking again, "sure thing, spider-boy."

" _It's Spider-Man,_ " he let out a shaky laugh. " _How many times do I have to tell you that?_ "

"About a billion because I'll never stop calling you that." You laughed.

" _Okay, I'll see you later, (y/n)._ " He replied with a small chuckle, as you smiled brightly knowing he couldn't see you.

"See ya." You hung up and sat your phone down just as your coworker tapped on your window, a mischievous grin danced across her lips. You got up and walked over to the door, beckoning her inside. "What is it now, Dawn?"

The redhead ushered herself inside and closed the door behind her, "Are you going to the office party later?"

You immediately shook your head knowing that you already had plans with your best friend. "Nope," you shook your head ignoring the open-mouthed look your coworker was giving you. "I have plans."

This has got her attention because now she was smirking at you, a lopsided grin taking place. "Oh?" She walked over to sit on your desk, not bothered by the scowl you gave her. "With who? What's his name? Do I know him?"

You rolled your eyes and walked over to sit in your chair, scooting up and taking another sip of your coffee. "No, you don't. He's my best friend, Dawn. Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" The smirk only deepened and she leaned to get closer to you. "Is he a best-friend-with-benefits type of best friend?"

Your nose automatically scrunched up; the idea alone gave you unnecessary thoughts. You shook your head, "No--why am I even having this conversation with you?"

"Because you love me." The redhead grabbed your coffee cup and gulped down the rest of your caffeine. You glared at her, clearly upset that she had drank the rest of your coffee.

"That depends," you quirked a brow, and began typing the rest of the report for your boss. "Now, leave. I have work to do."

Dawn groaned childishly before obeying your order and leaving your office with a huff. You shook your head with bemusement and chuckled. 

Hours later as the sun began to set along the horizon, you had still been busy with work. A sudden blare of flashing lights and a loud, obnoxious alarm signaled that something bad happened. Instantly, you pushed your chair back and walked over to the door. Flinging it open you were met with flames; flames engulfed most of the building. Your eyes widened for a fraction before you started calling out.

"Dawn!" You rushed out of your office, almost tripping on your own two feet in the process. "Dawn--" you stopped at the sight of a hopeless Dawn and countless other coworkers trying to put out the fire.

It wasn't doing them much justice because soon the flames had spread more freely around the office. The ceiling had began to tear apart, and pieces were falling knocking people down.

"What the hell happened?" You yelled over the roar of flames and shouts of the other coworkers around you.

Dawn, with wide eyes, turned to you, "I don't know!" She ran over to you and grabbed your arm, beginning to pull you away from the falling debris. "We can't stay here, we need to leave!"

"No shit!" You both made a run for the door but as soon as you tried to make an escape, more debris fell in front of you. It knocked Dawn to the ground, her hand leaving your arm. "Dawn!" Smoke clouded your vision and the smoke was making its way into your lungs. You began to cough hoarsely, and when you pulled back there was blood on your palm.

Several more alarms blared. Lights went on and off, and it was hard to tell where most people were in the room. The ground shook viciously, making you stumble on your footing.

You pulled out your phone and immediately dialed Peter's number, he picked up on the second ring. " _What's wrong?_ "

You coughed and back away from the smoke as it began to engulf your friend in flames, she screamed and tears pooled in your eyes. "Peter," you whispered and felt a shift in the top part of the building, it shook under your feet and you let out a whimper. "The building...it's--it's on fire."

" _I'm on my way,_ " he grunted out and you could hear him changing into his suit. " _Just don't...please don't get hurt._ "

"Hurry," your voice was hoarse as the building began to fall forward, desks shook and toppled over as they slid. You had to jump and roll as debris and other appliances came hurling towards you. You fell with an 'oomph', and your cellphone was ripped away from your hands. You watched it slide down, the glass windows breaking because of all the desks and debris crashing through it.

Immediately, you lunged for something to keep you from falling out of the window. You grabbed onto the frame of an office door and as the building dared to topple over, you thought about how death would feel. _I'm gonna die_ , you thought before squeezing your eyes tightly. _This is how it ends_.

"(Y/n)!" You could hear Peter's voice, and you sighed with relief. Once he spotted your helpless figure, he rushed to your side, but he wasn't able to get to you as fast as he could.

Unbeknown, a bomb suddenly went off, shattering more windows and Peter threw his arms out to try and reach you, a web was sprung free. It was too late. You tried reaching him but instead, your hand slipped from the wall that had held you and you fell, your hands going out in front of you as you tried to grab onto something, and your hit the edge of the wall. Just two feet away from you was the end, it looked down at the citizens below, flames erupted at the sides. You looked up at Peter knowing his face was masking one of horror as he watched you dangle on the ledge. You weren't strong enough, your hands were growing sweaty.

"Peter!" You screeched and tried hoisting yourself up, but a fridge came hurling in your path.

"Let go! I got you!" Just as those words left his lips, you let go of the ledge, a gasp escaped you and you fell right out of the building. It all happened in a blur; one minute you were falling and the next, you weren't.

One of Peter's webs had latched itself on to you, and you immediately grabbed for the stringy web that felt more like rope. Peter had caught you, and though you couldn't see, he was terrified, shaking from fear as his chest closed up. He would _not_ lose you.

"Hold on!" He hollered.

As your body dangled from the building, only being held in place by a thin--thin thread, you kept your eyes away from the huge drop if you were to fall.

"Just keep your eyes on me! Okay?" Peter could feel the string breaking slightly, he could feel his heart beating erratically.

From up above, a piece of debris caught your eye and your eyes widened. "Look out!" Just as the debris knocked Peter off the ledge, the web had broke, sending you falling through air.

You squeezed your eyes tightly, not wanting to watch you fall to your death. Peter couldn't make it to you in time, you were falling too fast. He was caught in a heap of debris falling from the building. Though, as Peter managed to shoot a web towards the other side of the street, it latched onto the other building. He sighed and pushed himself off from a broken part of the building, lunging for you. He grabbed a hold of your body thought you had severally knocked your head onto a fallen piece of debris just before he swung away.

A loud wail escaped you but you still managed to grip onto Peter's body. He swung to a safe place, a safe place being on top of another building. Once he landed he sat you down, instantly threw his mask off and examined you with wild eyes.

You quickly threw a trembling hand to the wound on your head and touched it, feeling the pain take over. But all you could do was stare shockingly at the blood as you raised your hand, examining with wild eyes. Blood seeped out in the corners of your lips and you could now taste the iron copper overflowing in your mouth.

Your eyes flew to Peter's as tears were already slipping past his eyes, "Pete..." He couldn't speak at first, he was in a state of shock. Then slowly he began to shake with fear, a tremble escaping him.

"Don't," you coughed and wiped your mouth, pulling it back and seeing blood. "Don't cry. I'm... I'm okay." Your breathing was coming out in short ragged breaths, your voice hoarse and scratchy.

He was full on sobbing as you laid in his arms, and you could feel your eyes closing. "It's all my f-fault," then the shock had slightly subsided and he clutched you in his arms. "You can't close your eyes--don't close your eyes. Don't leave me."

Your body went still as you laid in his arms, unconsciousness on the verge of taking over your body. As you reached your hand up, you caressed his cheek. "You can't save everyone, my love."

"No!" He shouted, shaking your shoulders to wake you up as your eyes finally closed and your arms fell limply to your stomach. "No no no no! Wake up, (y/n)! Please please wake up!"

Peter hadn't known how long he was sitting there with you in his arms, but when he realized he needed to do something with your body, he tensed.

"I never got to tell you how much you meant to me," he whispered and leaned down to press his lips to your now cold, pale forehead. "Wait for me when you get up there...I love you." 


	6. Friday The 13th

As you ran, you could feel your knees weaken, but you refused to stop. You couldn't stop, or _he_ would have won and would slaughter you. This was not how you wanted to spend your Friday night.

Tears mixed in with the rain streamed down your cheeks, smudging your freshly applied makeup. You ran down the streets of Queens, clothes torn and ripped in inappropriate areas, and soaked, though you didn't care.

"Somebody-- _HELP ME_!" You sobbed hysterically, sobs escaping your mouth uncontrollably as you vowed to never look back knowing he would be right behind you.

"Arghh, _leave me alone_!"

What was supposed to a nice time alone in your house turned into a horrid massacre; your sister's blood lingered on your hands, blood from the gash on your head covered most of your porcelain skin around your face. You couldn't see clearly as the blood blurred your vision.

As you turned down an alleyway, you fought the urge to stop and hide in a nearby dumpster. He wasn't stupid; you knew he would find you...he was your uncle after all. For years you've been trying to run away from him, but he was smarter and followed you everywhere. It was like this every five years; once a year on a night of Friday the 13th. 

"Jason, please!" You made it to the end of the alleyway, your back pressed up against a brick wall. As you stared ahead, a figure appeared at the end of the alley, and this time instead of his ultimate weapon, he held an ax. He took big steps towards you thought there was a while to go before he actually got to you.

Your hand flew up to your mouth as a sob racked through your chest, spilling its way out of your mouth. "What did I ever do to you?!" You looked up and around, and noticed a railing that was attached to some stairs that would definitely have a fire-escape.

He wouldn't slow down, and you knew you had no other choice but to climb the railing before he makes his way to you.

With one last look towards your uncle you glared heatedly, a snarl escaping your lips. You jumped up and on top of the dumpster and noticed Jason picking up his speed. Your heart began to beat much faster than normal and your head pounded. It seemed like only seconds before he could reach you, and successfully swung the ax, cutting deep on your ankle making you waver in your posture. You didn't give up; you pushed yourself up and climbing the railing.

"Fuck!" A high pitched cry escaped your lips, feeling the gash on your ankle split further open, blood gushing out. You winced and grabbed a hold of a metal rod, then once you reached a safe place you looked down to see that Jason was no longer there.

Your brows scrunched together as you took in your surroundings, wiping some blood off your face to clear some of your vision. You were still trying to get over the fact that Jason had found you and almost killed you, again.

"JASON!" You hollered at the top of your lungs, gripping the metal rod in your hand. A tremor shook through your body and you shivered, a trail of goosebumps lingered on your skin.

You weren't stupid; Jason was here still. You could feel his presence oddly enough you just didn't know where he was.

As the rain fell much more faster, the drops hit your skin leaving a burning feeling there. You breathed in and out with ragged breaths, but froze suddenly. A breeze whisked across the back of your neck and without thinking, you flung around and immediately swung the metal rod, but soft hands encased around it, stopping you.

You opened your mouth to let out a scream but halfway through it, a hand enclosed over it, stopping you.

"Hey, shh, it's me." The voice was calming yet you could hear the hammering of the owner's heart beating against his chest. His hands moved to your shoulders, holding you steady and to regain your strength.

A red and blue suit caught your eye, and you let out a sob, "Peter?"

He brought you into a hug and you clung to his chest, "I'm here. What happened?" When he pulled back he took notice in the blood that covered your face and body, then saw the ripped fabric of your clothing. His heart sped up and he began to shake with fear. "What happened to you? Are you bleeding? Who's blood is that?"

You trembled, but only two whispered words came out of your mouth, " _He's back_."


	7. Amen Omen

_What started as a whisper_

_Slowly turned into a scream_

_Searching for an answer_

_Where the question is unseen_

The tears streamed down your face at an incredible speed, and you weren't able to stop the uncontrollable sobbing that racked through you chest. The flowers you were holding were slowly dying due to how long you waited to put them to use. You clutched them tightly in your grip, not caring about the thorns that punctured your skin.

You were only eleven, and you watched your parents get lowered into the ground, six feet under. The dirt soon turned into mud due to the pelting rain that dropped from the sky. Your hair was damp and your black dress was now soaked.

A shudder coursed through your tiny body and when the coffins were finally lowered with a flag on top of them, you felt yourself break. The tears slowly drifted down your pale and freckled cheekbones.

_I don't know where you came from_

_And I don't know where you've gone_

_Old friends become old strangers_

_Between darkness and the dawn_

As they fell you began to shake, goosebumps trailed over your skin and a loud sob escaped you. Your vision became blurry as you watched the soldiers shoot their rifles, then picked up the flags and folded them. Since you were the only child they had, they had given the flags to you. Your tiny hands reached for it and it laid coldly across your forearms. 

Suddenly a soft hand slipped through your own, and entangled their fingers through yours. You looked up and over to your left and locked teary eyes with your best friend Peter Parker who was the same age as you, eleven years old. And though the boy tried to help you, you found yourself unable to smile or thank him.

You looked back to the ground, feeling Peter's sad eyes on you as they willed you to look his way. You couldn't bare to talk or do anything but look as your parents dead bodies were buried into the ground.

Minutes later and when everyone began to slowly fade away from the funeral scene, you felt Peter grip your hand with his.

"Let's go..." He whispered closely to your ear. "C'mon, I've got you."

You could feel Aunt May's presence as she trailed to the side of you, glancing down at you with teary eyes. As the three of you walked back to the limo, you couldn't help, but let out a silent whimper at the thought of never being able to see your parents ever again. It was a freak car accident and the person who had hit them, had taken off and not bothering to help them. They died from blood loss; they died because no one was there to save them.

A black car parked to the side of your limo had caught your eye, and when you furrowed your brows, you watched as two people; a man and a woman step out of the car.

They had made their way towards you and you forced yourself to a stop, catching a folder in the man's arm. Your breathing caught in your lungs and your heart began to pound wildly in you chest.

May and Peter stopped once you did and looked over to you with confusion. May bent down on her knees to look at you, worried brown eyes stared back at you.

"Honey, what is it?"

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could the two agents had already made their towards you.

"May Parker?" The woman asked solemnly just as Aunt May stood up and turned around to face them. A hard look crossed her features and you began to feel your palms sweat, still in Peter's grip.

"Yes," she glanced wearily at the two agents. "May I help you?"

The two agents pulled out their badges from their coats and flashed them in May's face. "We are with Child Protective Services," the man spoke professionally, a slight grimace taking over his features. "We wanted to ask you a few questions..."

As the agents conversed with May, you felt your heart hammering in your chest, the voices seemingly sounded if they were under water.

 _They have come to take me away_...

Tears flowed freely down your cheeks and you struggled to stay on your feet. Your knees began to wobble and Peter took notice. He grabbed your arms to keep you upright, but you could feel a tremor shake through him. He was scared. He didn't want them to take you away either.

"You can't take her away!" Aunt May's booming voice cracked with fatigue and sadness, tears now falling quickly down her cheeks as she glared heatedly at the agents in front of her.

"She's not yours to keep, Ms. Parker," the woman agent spoke up, a sad smile plastering over his lips. "She belongs to the system now. She'll be given a safe home until she turns eighteen."

"No!" May's cries were now garbled and you felt your heart break. "At least let me adopt her!"

The male agent stepped forward and latched his hand onto your arm, though it wasn't rough. You pulled back and that's when Peter began to softly cry.

"Don't take her, please!" He sobbed out, but you felt your knees weaken once again as the women gradually picked you up and into her arms.

You kicked and screamed in her arms, begging her to let you down, but she wouldn't. As the male agent held May and Peter back all you could do was cry for them.

"Peter!" You kicked some more, your voice becoming hoarse. "Let me down! Don't take me away! Please!"

_Amen omen, will I see your face again?_

"(Y/n)!" Peter screamed back over to you, but as you were sat in the agent's car you couldn't do anything but scream and watch as Peter ran up to your side of the door, pounding his fists on the glass. "Don't leave me!" He looked to the male agent as he got into the car, and glared through tears. "Don't take her away from me! Please--"

"I'm sorry, son." The agent spoke softly and right before the car took off, you gave Peter one last look, wide eyes full of plea.

_Amen omen, can I find the place within...to live my life without you?_

"I'll find you again. I promise." You cried though he probably couldn't hear you because of the glass window. You drew a heart on the cold glass, and whispered your goodbyes. "I love you, Peter."

And you feared that this would be the last time you saw him.

 


	8. Flight

  
  


You beamed up at the sky and felt the wind brush through your hair, letting goosebumps trail down your arms. _You've got this,_ you thought yourself as a deep concentrated look crossed over your face.

As you took one step back with your right foot, you clenched your fists at both of your sides. Looking around, you made sure that no one was watching, though no one would be because you lived in a house in the meadows and away from the bustling city of New York.

"Just like Vision taught you," you whispered out and inhaled softly before bending your knees slightly. "Just breathe," you breathed in. "And give yourself a _push_."

With that you had given yourself the necessary push to launch yourself into the sky. Seconds later you were soaring through the clouds, with both hands out in front of you.

You laughed, "I did it!" You felt a weight being lifted off your chest as the words felt right from leaving your lips. You were finally flying--and not falling every time you tried to. This felt amazing.

You were born with these amazing gifts; abilities of being able to fly, to have superhuman durability, senses, and strength. You were unstoppable and deemed the Super-Girl of this world. You could stop wars, but you were too young to do any of that yet. You had just turned sixteen not only three months ago.

"Vis," you pressed a finger to the ear piece enclosed around your inner earlobe. "I did it! I finally did it!"

There was a light laugh on the other end, " _I know. I am very proud of you_."

At those words, your smile grew bigger and you decided to try a few tricks before stopping back at the tower. You flew higher into the clouds, storming your way to the farthest corners of the earth. Once you were high enough, you stopped in mid-air and focused quietly as you closed your eyes. If you tried hard enough you'd be able to hear everyone on the planet. Though you were still young and still getting used to these abilities.

"It's so beautiful," you whispered out once the thousands--billions of voices evaded your eardrums. Such happiness overjoyed you to the point of breaking out into tears.

" _Peter just arrived, (y/n),_ " came Vision's sudden alerted tone of voice. Peter didn't know about your powers, he only knew what you had told him about you knowing the team from when they had saved you all those months ago in New York, when Loki reigned terror on the human population. " _Shall I tell him that you aren't able to make it in?_ "

Your eyes snapped open and you shuffled out of your momentary daze. With a shake of your head, you let out a low curse, "No! No, I'll be there in five minutes. Tell him that I--went for a walk or something, I don't know."

" _Of course_ ," Vision replied with a low chuckle as you readily flew at high speeds, faster than the wind.

You passed buildings beyond buildings, pedestrians, and vehicles along the way. When you finally made it to the tower, you flew up and touched down on the landing pad just outside. You dusted your jeans off, fixed your flannel, and brushed your hair down with your hands before walking into the building.

You were immediately bombarded with the scent of high priced alcohol, a scent that instantly had you thinking of Tony, who was in fact standing at the bar only twenty feet away from you.

Your eyes widened slightly once you locked yours with Peter's. He was standing in front of Tony outside of the island counter to the bar, a smile on his face as he locked eyes with you.

"Hey!" His face immediately lit up once he saw you smile his way.

You wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans seconds before you were standing in front of him. "Hi, Pete!" You waved and tried your hardest to hide the blush forming on your already flushed cheeks. Your hair was still absolutely frizzled from the wind, and you could feel the looks from the team as they watched the two of you interact.

Peter had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as you leaned into him, inhaling his amazing scent. He had a type of scent that only you'd be able to identify as his own. You've never known anyone else to have the same scent as him. You liked it that way.

You reached up on your tip toes considering you were very small in height, and pressed your lips to Peter's cheek. Once you pulled back, you locked eyes with a smirking Clint and glared his way before turning back to face a blushing Peter.

"What, uh--what are you doing here?" You stammered out as you examined him with wide curious eyes.

"I thought I'd surprise you." He beamed, a lopsided grin stretching across his lips.

You shuffled nervously on your two feet, and gripped his hands with your tiny ones. With hooded eyes, you slowly looked up at him, a slow smile stretching across your lips. "I wanna show you something." _This was it! I'm finally going to tell Peter!_ You thought to yourself as you pulled him away from all the prying eyes that belonged to the Avengers.

"Is everything okay?" He asked nervously, a slight frown taking over his beautiful face. You nodded and pulled him along with you until you got outside and on the roof of the tower.

You stopped and let go of Peter's hand, then walked over to the railing of the building not missing the way your boyfriend's body instantly reacted and stood by your side.

"Don't stand so close," he whispered out and tugged at your hand. Your heart leapt in your chest, and you shuddered at his touch. He was always so protective of you, and even though you knew how to handle yourself, you still thought his protectiveness was cute.

As Peter pulled you to his chest, you listened to the steady sound of his heart beat and breathed in his musky scent. "I have to tell you something." You whispered out, and that's when you felt the slight pause in his heartbeat. You also could hear clear as day, and you silently thanked your ability of having superhuman hearing.

"You can tell me anything," Peter whispered lowly, uneasy. You could feel the slight quiver and tremble that racked through his body. "You know that, baby."

You breathed in once more and then took a step back, a smile slowly tilting your lips. Peter watched you skeptically and when you took a step closer to the edge, he took once more closer to you.

"What are you doing?"

You heaved a sigh, "I'm going to show you something...it's much easier this way."

His eyes widened as you reached the very edge of the railing, and stepped onto it. "Are you crazy?!" He lunged for you, but you rose your hands to stop him.

"It's okay, Pete!" You laughed hoarsely. "Do you trust me?" He nodded slowly, but you could still see the confusion clearly on his face. You outstretched your arm and raised an expectant eyebrow at him. "Come here."

"W-what are you going to do...?" He stammered out and a smirk slowly etched itself over your pink lips. He grew weary of his decision as he watched you skeptically.

"I want you to hold on tight, okay?" You whispered, and gripped his hand whilst planting a quick peck to his lips, stunning him.

"(Y/n), what are you ta--" You cut him off as you slowly levitated from the pavement, your free hand in the sky. Peter's high pitched screams were all you hear as you soared through the sky. "What the hell?!" He clung to your body and gripped on for dear life, and you only laughed.

"How--?" He looked up at you, wide brown eyes taking in your smiling face. You looked happy, and that made Peter feel more calm. "How are you doing this?"

"I can fly," you laughed softly as you soared to the clouds, watching Peter's face in the night sky. You held him close and sighed. "I should have told you--and I'm sorry, but I was so so so scared of what you might think of--" Peter cut you off with a soft kiss to your lips.

You sighed contently into the kiss and Peter smiled against your lips. "I still like you," he whispered out once you pulled back, the night breeze brushing through your hair. "If anything that makes you even more hotter."

You gasped and smacked his arm, losing balance on your flight for a second. Peter screeched and you grunted as you held yourself back up in with your levitation.

"Yeah," You sighed and pressed your forehead against his. "I still have to work on keeping my balance."

He breathed out heavily and you chuckled, "Calm down, Parker." You brought your fingers under his chin and lifted it so he was looking at you. "I would never drop you."

He smiled but you could definitely see a blush forming across both his cheeks, "I'm supposed to be the one to not let you fall."

You giggled and pressed your lips to his temple, pulling back and winking at him. "Girls can be heroes too," you whispered. "Let me be yours."

He looked as if he was trying to shake away the on-coming emotions, and his eyes lit up, a huge grin dancing across his lips. "You've always been my hero, (y/n)."


	9. Don't Be Scared

You felt the nerves wrack through your body, though you couldn't really do much about it. That reason being because your body was numb from the previous car accident you had been in.  Currently, you laid pale and still on top of a hospital bed as a tube dangled down your dry throat, IVs stuck in your arms, thighs, and upper chest area. 

As you laid there, helpless and unable to speak or open your eyes, there was someone who had been watching over you for hours. Someone who was present along with you during the accident.

Peter watched you with saddened brown eyes. His lower lip trembled at your hopelessness looking form. He was standing in the far right corner of the room with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He couldn't bare to watch you lay there so helpless like that.

On the outside, you looked on the verge of peacefulness, though he noticed the way your brows furrowed and met in the middle as if something was troubling you.

Oh how right he was.

You lad there in the bed, you felt weightless, though there was something pulling you back into the deepest pits of the darkness you tried to escape. You were unable to do anything rational about the situation. Unconsciousness wasn't going to let you wake up.

Peter watched as your eyes fluttered for a mere second, and his posture shifted in his stance. The muscles in his arms tightened and he furrowed his brows. He thought, "it's just the medication she's on," and continued to watch you rest. 

_Help me_.

 _Help me_.

The voice was hoarse and gruff like as you pried your weakened eyes open. Though as you hoped to be met with light, you were only met with darkness, and it began to pull you further in.

"Who's there?" You were dreaming. You had to be. It was the only explanation as to why you only saw darkness.

In the distance, in what seemed to be a maze of some-sort, childlike giggles could be heard. You froze and turned your head to the side, only to be consumed by more darkness.

"Is there someone there?" You tried to find a wall to balance yourself, but you were only met with nothingness.

_I'm gonna get you!_

You screeched and jumped back as a breeze whisked past your ear. Someone had whispered in your ear, and the voice alone sent an eerie chill down your spine. A tremor racked through your sore body and you ached.

"Who's there?" It was a cry of pain that escaped your lips. You blinked once, twice then three times, praying to be able to see any sign of light. There was none.

You felt weak. Hopeless.

 _You'll never leave_...

As you opened your mouth to let out a horrified scream, a cold hand slapped over it, stopping you. You felt lips brush past your ear, and you froze in fear.

 _Shh_ , the voice whispered in a void, dark and empty voice. _You're going to wake the shadows_.   
  


Peter watched you from afar, but after watching you twitch more than three times in under five minutes, he decided to limp over to your side. His right leg had been sprained from the accident, so he hadn't wasn't as bad as you.

He examined your facial expressions; watched as your lips trembled and as your fingers twitched at your sides. He could tell something was bothering you, but he didn't know what it was.

"(Y/n)?" He whispered out hoarsely and gently grabbed your left hand with his soft and warmer one.

You were mumbling under your breath. It was something he couldn't make out himself. As he leaned in closer with furrowed brows, and thin lips, he tried to hear what you were saying. To him, it sounded like gibberish, but you were actually speaking in tongues. 

When you reopened your eyes, you were still met with darkness. That meant you hadn't escaped the nightmare. You wondered what the voice meant by waking the _shadows_ , though you didn't want to encounter that ungodly creature ever again.

"Where am I?" Your voice only echoed off the imaginary walls, emptiness pits of the surrounding darkness. Though as you walked deeper down the desolate and narrow pathway, a small light caught your attention.

You began to walk much more quicker, a spark of hope igniting in your gloomy chest. Minutes passed and you were still going nowhere fast. It felt as though you were walking in quicksand and there was no way out of it.

Tears flew freely down your cheeks, and an angered, helpless shudder escaped you. "IS THERE ANYONE HERE?"

Instead of receiving the answer you wanted, more childlike laughter filled your eardrums and you became still. A spotlight was casted down upon the middle of the darkened maze. Three girls stood there as they all held each other's hands, and twirled around in a circle. They began to sing melodiously, though that wasn't the word you would use for this type of situation. Their voice sent eerie chills down your spine.

_Ring around the rosy_

_Pocket full of posies_

_Ashes, ashes_

_We all fall down_

They sang that over and over until you took a careful step backwards. They stopped and turned towards you, and you gasped in horror. In what was supposed to be in place of their beautiful eyes, there were holes. Blood covered every inch of their clothing and they looked at you dead-like.

"What happened to you?"

 _Shh_ , they sang in chorus and took synced steps towards you, holding each other's bloodied hands. You took a step back with wide eyes, but tripped over something and landed on your back. The dead little girls towered over you, a now sadistic expression on their faces, an evil laugh escaped their lips. _You're going to wake the shadows_.

You threw your hands up in defense and screamed loudly. "Please, no!" You kicked and screamed, but as they neared closer to you, you wanted nothing more than to run and hide.

_Wake up_

_Wake up_

_Wake up_

_Y/n, wake up!!_

Arms wrapped around your forearms, keeping you from clawing at your own skin. When you reopened your eyes, you came face to face with Peter. Tears streamed down his blotchy red cheeks as he tried to pry your bloody fingernails off your skin.

"(Y/n), baby! Stop!"

"NO! LET ME GO!" You were still in a state of shock as Peter tried to calm you down, but as it proved to be useless, nurses rushed in. He was forced to step back with horror clearly written across his face.

As he watched the nurses plunge a needle into your thigh, he cringed. His whole body shook with fear, and the look of pure horror on your face would haunt him until the day he died.


	10. Secrets

You felt hollow inside. You could feel the emptiness in your chest; in your heart. Hollowness came and gone whenever it pleased when it came to you. It all depended on the day, and today was one of those days.

As you sat criss-crossed on your living-room floor you couldn't stop the tears that spilled down your cheeks. The soft droplets fell down your sore cheeks and onto your old ripped ACDC t-shirt. You could feel the tears pooling more frequently in your eyes, but you dared not to wipe them away.

You slowly looked down at the picture frame in your hands, your fingers numb. The edgy frame scraped at your skin as you traced the outline of rectangular object. A picture of you and your boyfriend was placed neatly inside the frame.

You sniffled, feeling your bottom lip tremble slightly. The picture only made you cry much more from the lack of your boyfriend's presence. The two of you had gotten into a huge argument because you had just found out a secret that he kept from you. The secret rushed through your mind, the endless tears never stopping.

After the argument, the two of you had parted ways and demanded a break. You couldn't know for sure what you meant by a break, but all you knew was that you needed one. The arguing happened on the dulled days.

You could remembered the distraught look on his face once you said you were done. The way his head tilted slightly to the side, a single tear rolling out of his brown puppy dog eyes. You felt terrible, but the two of you were in the heat of the moment and could no longer stand the presence of each other.

Now, as you sat there on your ragged and cold floor, you prayed that this wasn't the end. You couldn't stand the thought of losing someone that meant so much to you.

Peter was your lifeline when you were too weak to stand or speak. He was your other half, the missing piece to your broken puzzle, no matter how cliché that sounds. He was the one who taught you to stand up for yourself, to not give up hope. If you lost him, that alone would be the reason to stop living.

With a sigh, you sniffled once more then as you kept the frame in your hand, you stood up and walked over to the phone that hung on your wall. You picked it up and looked at the dial buttons, not knowing if you should tap in those numbers. More tears fell down your cheeks as you told yourself to stay strong and don't let your wall crumble down. You hung the phone back up and walked over to your dresser and sat the picture frame back on its rightful place.

As you stood there silently for more than a minute, the sound of soft knocking brought you out of your thoughts. The knocking sounded familiar though you couldn't be certain who was on the other side of your door.

You turned around and walked slowly over to the door, and gripped the doorknob as you peaked through the peep hole. The figure was hunched over as his head laid on the door, a heartbroken look covered his features.

Your breathing hitched and then you watched as he went to knock again, but this time you stopped him and opened the door. You peaked your head halfway through the opening, your brows furrowing. A small frown tilted your lips as you took notice in Peter's black eye.

"What happened to you?" You stepped fully out from the door and looked both ways before you pulled him softly inside.

He hissed quietly as you ushered him to sit down on the couch. He held a hand to his left eye, though you could clearly see another bruise.

"Couple of muggers were being assholes." He wanted to chuckle, he really did, but he couldn't. Instead, he found himself a little more heartbroken as he took notice in your blotchy eyes and puffy red cheeks.

You grabbed the first aid kit and walked slowly over to the couch. You sat down and opened the first-aid, feeling Peter's eyes on you, willing you to look at him. You grabbed some cotton balls and some antiseptic, then began to work at the cuts on his cheeks.

As you touched softly at the cut next to his eyebrow, he flinched and you felt yourself flinch as well. "I'm sorry..." It came out in a whispered breath.

You went to touch at it again, but this time his hand wrapped around your wrist. You stopped and looked at him, the tears threatened to spill once again.

"I'm the one who should be apologizing," he whispered back then tilted his forehead down, leaning it on your own. He let out a breathy sigh and gave you those puppy dog eyes as he sucked in his lower lip. It trembled and you watched as salty tears overflowed in those brown eyes.

"I told myself that I was only protecting you if you didn't know about me being Spider- Man when in reality, I was only putting you in much more danger," he stopped, his face dropping as he slid both hands over to cup your cheeks. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you. The thought alone kills me."

You sniffled and laid your hand gently on top of his damp dark hair, running your fingers through it. "You will never lose me, Peter. I'm not going anywhere."


	11. Pinky Promise Pt II

The next day you had woken up from the most comfortable sleep you have ever had in a very long while. You yawned and snuggled into a chest that you had your face plush against. You realized that it was Peter's and that his heart was beating abnormally quick. With an unattractive yawn, you stretched and unwrapped your arms from his surprisingly built frame.

"Pete, please tell me that's the controller pressed up against my stomach." You chuckled then with a smirk, you lifted your head and locked eyes with a pair of very wild brown eyes.

"I, uh," his cheeks flamed instantly and you chuckled. "Erm...yeah."

"Jesus, Parker, relax. I'm just fucking with you." You blew a strand of your curly hair out of your face then automatically squinted your eyes from the harsh light of the sun leaking through the curtains of your best friend's room.

Peter wasn't surprised when you cursed, because that happened quite often. Though, when you first had said a curse word, you were only the young age of twelve and Peter was very surprised.

He watched as you stretched once more before you walked sleepily over to his bathroom, and without shutting the door all the way, you kept it cracked open and pulled down your sweats to go pee.

"What's the plan for today, Pete?"

He still sat crossed legged on his bed, not moving from his spot, his eyes wide as he tried not to look your way. This wasn't the first time you had peed with the door open in front of him. He could hear you humming to a tune that sounded a lot like the lullaby you would sing to him.

He smiled, "Whatever you would like."

"I don't know what to do that's why I asked you, silly." After you were finished you walked back into his room and flopped yourself back down on the bed. A heavy sigh escaped your lips, "Wanna get your ass handed to you in air-hockey?"

He seemed to have totally spaced out what you said, so you sat up and snapped your fingers in front of his face. That should hopefully snap him out of whatever reverie he was in at the moment. "Earth to Peter! Hello?" You then resorted to waving a hand in front of his face as he looked to be staring off in the distance. There was something on his mind and you couldn't quite figure it out.

"What?" He looked at you and then at the hand in front of him, his face turned so pink you were unsure if he was feeling okay. "Right, sorry. What were you saying?"

"Someone is totally spaced out today," you giggled and goddamn, if he wasn't already in love with you before, he surely was now. You had this sort of aura about you that just made him feel so proud to call you his best friend, but secretly wanting you to be more than that to him. _If only_ , he thought to himself as he watched your brows pull together slightly. "I said, did you want to get your ass handed to in air hockey?"

He laughed lightly, "It would be a genuine pleasure," he paused. "But I'm _so_ gonna win."

"Ha!" You chuckled playfully and hoped off the bed, pulling up your pants in the process. "If you say so, Parker."

\- - -

"That's not fair!"

You giggled and sat the handle back on top of the hockey table, then turned to look at the whining boy ahead of you. He stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, a slight pout on his lips. You found yourself staring too long at his lips. _Stop, or he'll catch you_. You told yourself before you forced a smirk to your lips.

"Sore loser. You're just upset that I won and you didn't."

"I'm not upset!" He whined some more and stomped his feet towards the ground. He looked flustered and you couldn't help but take notice in the faint blush on his cheeks. "Another round?"

Oh, how could you say no to that face... or those pouty lips? The answer: you couldn't. You don't and you never do. It was your weakness and with a hesitant nod, you walked back over to your side and began to get ready.

"I can never say no to you, Pete!" You huffed, but felt your own blush start to take place on your neck, then as it traveled up your neck and towards your cheeks you gave up. You didn't care if he saw the blush. Girls blushed all the time, right? "Okay, come on."

You met his eyes and felt your lungs almost collapse on you from how intensely he was staring at you. His gaze was soft, yet you felt that it was just the two of you in the room. He _always_ made you feel that way: so wanted and cherished. He was way out of your league and you had no chance with him.

"What?" You paused, taking notice in his rigid posture or how he wouldn't stop staring at you. A warm feeling ignited in your chest and the blush deepened further. "Is there something on my face?" You frantically started to wipe at your cheeks, obviously the only thing on your face was the tomato red blush.

He walked over to you and your breath caught in your throat. As he stopped in front of you, about two feet in front of you, you felt your hands ache at your side. You wanted to wrap your hands around his, to keep holding them for the remainder of the day.

You looked up at him through hooded eyes and froze as his beautiful orbs bore into your own. Your breath caught once more and it was as if you forgot how to breathe. That was a good thing, right? You cleared your throat and noticed his eyes searching your face.

"You're so beautiful..." his voice came out in a whisper and you shivered in pure delight.

A shy smile graced your lips and you squinted up at him, "You think so?" The blush became more noticeable and that's when you visibly gulped.

"Oh, I know so." He stated matter-of-factly then began to lean in towards you, his breathing getting caught in his throat. His pupils dilated immensely as his lips parted slightly. He tilted your chin up and you sighed happily, almost swooning at his touch. He had a magical touch.

 _How come I've never noticed that before_?

"Peter?"

His eyes grew hazy and he kept looking down at your lips, those kissable lips of yours. "Y-yeah?"

You made sure not to sound so eager, but your voice came out almost high pitched at such close proximity from him. "Can you please hurry up and kiss me?"

He looked so shocked, but wasted no time in pulling you towards him. One of his hands gripped around your waist while the other moved to cup your cheek. His eyes closed shut and leaned in and when his lips met yours it felt as though your world was spinning. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head then closed and you stepped on your tip-toes to to wrap your arms around his neck, to secure yourself in his arms.

His lips were _so_ soft.

When the two of you finally pulled apart, his eyes halfway closed as he looked at you. Still in shock that the kiss had finally happened. "Oh, wow." He sighed.

You pecked him once more, a smirk ghosting over your swollen lips, "You should have done that ages ago, Parker. Do you always like to keep a girl waiting?"

"Wait--you--?" His eyes were wide with mild shock, his lips tingling.

"Oh, Peter...I've always liked you. You were just to blind to see it," you whispered out and squeezed his lips together in a pout. A small smile gathered across your face, your eyes lit up like fireworks on Fourth of July. "Now, where were we?"

You watched as one of the most widest smiles appear on his face and your heart melted. He moved back over to the other side of the hockey table and got ready to play.

"I'm so gonna win this time!"


	12. Amen Omen Pt II

You looked at yourself in the mirror ahead of you. Pushing your glasses up to the bridge of your nose, you heaved a sigh and clutched your the strap of your backpack tightly in your hand. Your heart was beating too loud for you to concentrate on anything other than the rising anxiety inside your head. You managed to get up in the early in the morning, but the process of getting ready only set you into anxious mode and you hated that it held all of this power, to make you feel exhausted, to make you feel like you couldn't go on with the rest of the day. But you had to go to school because it was the first day of your sophomore year in high school.

A soft rasp of knocks came from the other side of your door, and you jumped slightly.

"Are you ready, Honey?"

You sighed. It was just your foster mom.

With a nod, you took a long lasting look in the mirror once more. "As I'll ever be." You breathed out, whispering it under your breath. Slowly, you moved over to the door of your bedroom and swung the door open to come face to face with the soft features of your foster mother. Her shoulder length dark hair was up in a bun and for a moment your eyes widened. You had never seen your mother wear her hair up, not once.

She smiled down at you, "The car's warmed up," she paused and leaned in close to search your face with squinted brown eyes. You knew that look. She knew that you were hiding behind a mask today. She could sense it because she was always like that. With her job description, it was all the more difficult to get away with things when you were younger, so you always got caught all thanks to your mother. "Is it your anxiety?"

Internally, you kicked at yourself. You never liked worrying your mother because that just meant that she had permission to go into over-protective mother mode, and she took that to a whole other level, especially when it came to you.

"No," you immediately shook your head and ducked underneath her arm, heading towards the kitchen. Your mother followed not far behind with a frown as she watched you grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

The shortness of your replies never bothered your mother because you were always a quiet kid--even before your birth parents died. 'Till this day--at fifteen years old--you hardly muttered a word to her and only ever spoke to her when she asked you questions, or started the conversation. You have opened up to your mother once in the eight years you've known each other--once. Let's just say your mother still thinks about that day because it was such a shock to her that you would tell her about your past to someone who wasn't her apart of you. It was even a shock to you because you never thought you would open up to anyone, surprisingly so. Your mother was no one to open, either, and that's because you know how she is around her coworkers and from your uncle Phil.

"Are you sure? You can start school next semester if it's too much? I can call in and talk to your principle about--"

You turned around with wide eyes, "No, no. It's fine," you paused with a wince. She had a habit of overreacting when it came to you. "This is what happened last year--I can't do that again. I have to be strong."

 _Admirable_. That's what you were in your mother's eyes. She couldn't believe how such a strong women you were becoming and it only made her even more proud of you than she already was. With a small nod and a lingering grin, she grabbed her purse and the two to of you walked out the doors.

===

 _It's now or never, Y/N._  You thought to yourself as you held your hand on the handle attached to Midtown High. Looking over your shoulder, you watched as your mother stayed parked in her car--presumingly waiting for you to walk inside.

She gave you two thumbs up with a very foreign, very odd and joyous grin. Reassurance was plastered over her face. Never have you ever seen her smile that widely, but it still gave you a warm and homey feeling inside. You liked that she was trying too hard because that just meant the impassive and almost  _too_  apathetic Melinda May had a soft spot for you, for her foster daughter.

With slight hesitance, you pulled open the doors and walked inside. Your hands grew sweaty as you took in the huge mass of students that all crowded around in the halls, next to their lockers. You looked down at the floors, feeling several pairs of eyes trained on you, but you kept walking down the halls towards the office. You managed to find it at the end of the hall and you hurried inside to escape the never-wandering eyes of the students around you.

You huffed out a breath of pure relief as you stood with your back facing the door to the office behind you.

 _One step at a time,_  you repeated silently to yourself as you remembered the small talk the two of you had on the way here. 

After getting your schedule from the principle's assistant, you were already running late so when you made your way to your first class of the day you were already feeling nervous, and you could feel sweat collecting at your temples. 

Once you made it to your class, and after you were introduced to the class by the teacher, you made your way to the back. Your head was down, your hood was up and hiding half your face- you'd rather be somewhere else than here. Anywhere else, really. Anxiety was slowly building up inside, you could feel it, but you forced yourself to be there. Just like you forced yourself to forget about everything that happened all those years ago. 

You still thought about it...about Peter. There wasn't a day that went by where his face wasn't on your mind, and his name was on your lips. Even after all this time, all these years, you were still thinking about him. He was your best friend. Sadly, that all changed as you grew older and into the young woman you are now. Memories lingered in your head from time to time, and you could still picture his goofy smile. Other than that you didn't even fight back for the memories when they wanted to hide behind that wall you built. 

_Ring!_

You jumped slightly in your seat, hand slipping from under your chin and gripping the pencil on your desk. Your eyes darted around the room as the students began to ascend from class. Gathering all of your things, you got up and walked out of your first class of the day and down the halls to your next one. 

" _Y/N?_ " 

Stopping in the middle of the hallway, just as the last of the students shut the door to their class, you turned around and locked eyes with an oddly recognizable pair of brown eyes. 

You bit your lip, and awkwardly made eye contact with the boy in front of you. "Yes?"   


His eyes widened and his jaw clenched as he suppressed the overflow of emotions. He took a quick and unsubtle step forward with his hand cautiously outstretched in front of him. "I-I-I, uh, wow, sorry," he froze, noticing your weariness as you squinted your eyes at him. "It's me. It's- Peter. Peter...Parker."   


" _Peter_?" Tears pooled in your eyes and you quickly blinked them away. You sniffled, tilting your head as you moved closer slowly as if you were approaching a lion. He smiled at you, a big boyish and teary eyed smile. "Oh my  _God_ \- Peter!" You tripped on your feet as you closed the distance between the two of you. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, and you nestled your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar and home-y scent. "I can't believe it." 

He squeezed you tighter, "How- How are you?" He pulled back, eyes darting all over your face, a breathy laugh slipping past his lips.   


You let your eyes flicker over his face, tracing his handsomely defined jaw with your vision. Butterflies swarmed around in your stomach and your palms grew sweaty.   


"You're here," You whispered with disbelief in your tone. His previous question flying over your head. Within seconds, your shaky hands cupped both of his cheeks, and you found with difficulty that you no longer had control over your emotions. You were too overwhelmed. Pure elation filled you, and you smiled so wide. "You're really here." 

"I'm here," He leaned his forehead on yours, taking a trembling breath. "I've missed you so much." 

"I've missed you too, Parker. Goodness you grew. Look at you," you pulled back slightly, resting your hands on his shoulders as you checked him out. "All grown up."   


A light pink dusted his cheeks, his smiling growing shy. He couldn't help but let his eyes take you all in, memorizing every inch of you with pure adoration. "Me? You- look at you.  _God_ , you're beautiful." 

"Thank you," it was your turn to blush, but you hid behind your sleeve, biting on the fabric - a bad habit you needed to break. Your heart hammered and thumped wildly against your ribs. You were so happy you didn't want this moment to end. Suddenly, an idea popped in your head and you beamed, "It's my first day here, and you know I have an embarrasing sense of direction. Would you like to give me a tour-?"

He didn't even wait for you to finish before he was nodding, "Yeah. Of course," he shuffled on his feet. "What class do you have next?" 

"Technically, it's now." You breathed out a laugh causing his eyes to crinkle in awe. You handed him your schedule and he smiled softly.   


"You got almost every class with me for the rest of the day," he paused. "Hey, maybe after school you could come over. I know aunt May would love to see you."   


At the mere mention of his aunt, your eyes lit up and you nodded. Excitement filling you to the core.   


Maybe this year wouldn't be so bad after all.   


||

_Wow i cannot believe how long it took me to write this_

_I apologize, my friends_


	13. Get With The Game, Parker

When Peter first stepped into the Avengers Tower, you were what caught his eye. You had frizzy red hair, freckles, and a serrated knife, which you were shaking in the face of the famous Clint Barton who was easily a good foot taller than you. Your eyes were narrowed into slits as you appeared to be growling at him by the way your lips were curled into a snarl. 

Peter could faintly hear the conversation you were having with Barton. "I want my fucking skittles back, Clinton." 

Clint only smirked down at you and that seemed to tick you off even more. He had his arms crossed over his buff chest, and tolled his eyes. Hawkeye's lips were moving rapidly, a small smile dancing across them. 

You stopped and nodded, seeming pleased by whatever he had said. "Okay," you paused. "But I want the sour skittles--not those plain ones that taste like vomit." 

He nodded and you walked away, towards Peter, and he froze realizing that you were walking his way. He stepped aside once you reached him, but then you stopped and flipped the blade in your hand while you examined him with curious eyes.  

"And who are you?" You pushed yourself up on your tippy-toes and practically shoved yourself so close to his face. You knew nothing about personal space. 

Peter gave you lost, adorable brown puppy dog eyes. "P-Peter," he stuck out his hand, causing you to reach down to your own level and no longer standing on your tippy-toes. "Peter Parker." 

You pursed your lips and nodded as your eyes raked up and down his body, appreciatively. He felt exposed somehow, and he found you very intimidating, even more so than Flash Thompson. 

Seconds passed before you outstretched your hand and shoved it into his, your hand fitting perfectly into his own larger one. A smirk graced your lips and you looked up to meet his wide eyes. 

"Agent (y/l/n)," you replied, all seriousness laced in your tone. "It's a pleasure to finally meet the famous Spider-Boy." 

He resisted the urge to correct you, "Spider--Spider-Man." He mumbled under his breath, and watched you walk away, sashaying your hips as you did so. 

"What was that?" You could hear his steps behind you, they seemed rushed and clumsy. He was following you to the hangar bay since you and the team were preparing for a mission, though bringing the newest addition to the team along. 

"It's S-Spider-Man." He concluded with a slight curve in his voice that made him sound too nervous for comfort. 

Of course you could hear it. 

"Oh," You paused and grabbed your duffle bag full of weapons that sat next to the lift. You walked onto the Quinjet with a huff then walked past Natasha and Steve who were quietly going over the mission. "Spidey-Boy is here." 

You sat down on your seat inside the cockpit, throwing your duffle beside you, and completely ignoring the way Peter had been staring at you. He wanted to correct you, but he was too entranced by the way you spoke, you had so much confidence. He could hear the authoritativeness in your voice and it only made him want to impress you that much more. And though he wouldn't admit it, he had heard a lot about you from Tony. To him, Tony always made you sound like one of the Higher Ups, he made you sound like Fury. 

"Parker," You flipped switches on the panel above you to get the Quinjet ready, and Peter's eyes were glued to you. "I'm gonna assume you know the ropes. Put your ear piece in and get buckled up before we take off." 

Steve and Natasha gave each other side-glances and then looked at Peter who had his mouth halfway open. Steve walked up to him and handed him a communications device before smiling tightly. 

"Remember how I told you I was pretty much who you come to for help?" Peter nodded nervously. "Forget I said that," he chuckled and nodded towards you over his shoulder. "She's my second in command. You go to her if you need anything because I may not have answers for you." 

"Buckle in." You hollered from the cockpit, overhearing Steve's conversation with Peter. Natasha came to sit beside you on your right, throwing a smug grin your way. You completely ignored her expression once you noticed that only half the team was inside the Quinjet, "Where the hell is Clint?"   

"Here!" Speaking of, Barton came jogging into the Quinjet, his quiver hanging off his shoulder, packed and ready. Tony followed behind along with Wanda and Vision. 

You looked at him over your shoulder and narrowed your eyes, "You're lucky I didn't leave your ass here," then you turned back around and gripped the wheel. "And where's Speedy Maximoff?" You had directed the question at his twin sister. She only shrugged. 

As soon as you were about to question his presence, a flash of blue and silver zoomed into your line of vision and you quirked your lips at the kid. "You know, for someone who runs twice the speed as a normal human, you're pretty late." 

The silver-headed speedster smirked over at you and your face flushed, "And for someone who is second in command you sure act like your the boss." 

"Do you even know the definition of " _Second In Command_ ", Piet? Or shall I give you a dictionary?"

"Give me a dictionary and I will only throw it at your face."

"You wouldn't do that."

"Would you like to bet?"

"Not unless you want me to shove my foot up your a-"

"Agents, please." Steve barked. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring daggers at the boy twin and his second in command. You and Pietro's mouth slammed shut, his expressions faltering.

You tried to suppress your chuckles, pursing your lips as you pulled the Quinjet into the sky. The forecast looked clear on the news, but as you soared through the air dark clouds had began to surround each other.

 _H_ _opefully_ this was going to be a quick in and out stealth mission. The type of mission that made you anxious beforehand, but filled with excitement and adrenaline as soon as you landed. Kicking HYDRA butt always left you smiling in victory after a good mission. And for a minute, you wondered if the Avengers would ever be finished with their enemies.

Silence filled the Quinjet as you and Clint descended onto ground; a huge patch of green grass and tall trees surrounded you. You unbuckled and took off your headset before going over to your duffle bag and grabbing your comm device before strapping your thigh holster on.

While you slipped your glock into your holster, you felt a presence next to you. You gave the person a side-glance, noticing a flash of red and blue. "Peter," you said, turning to fully look at him with squinted eyes. He eyed you while you eyed with with a presidential gaze. "Is there something I can help you with...?"

"Oh, uh," he stammered pathetically, gulping from your stern gaze. He couldn't help himself. "I wanted to ask- how  _old_ are you? You're basically the boss of everyone here, but you look my age."

"I don't see how that's relevent to this mission, Parker."

"Relevent? No. Curiousness is what I'm going for."

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Your eyes raked him up and down once appreciatively and he blushed uncontrollably. "I'm old enough to be on the team. Young enough to know that you go to Midtown High." 

You uncrossed your arms and walked past him, and before he could say anything further, Steve began to give his prep-talk, the thing he did before almost every mission. Sometimes, you would join in and talk to the team, throw some of your own two-sense into it. Today you decided to let your Captain do the talking. All that you could think about was how you were gonna go in guns-ablazin', and kick some ass. You pictured sinking your clenched brass-knuckled fists into any of HYDRAs men.

Once the doors was lifted down, you were already bouncing on the heels of your combat boots. Your black-clad and gloved hands gripped at the hand gun you had on either side of your holster.

"Y/N, you've got the east side of the building, I'll do the west. Sam, Nat, Tony, and Wanda, you all are with me. The rest of you are with Y/N. Any questions?" Steve said while multitasking between strapping on his shield and talking to the team.

You looked around, narrowing down your team which consisted of Pietro, Bucky, Clint and Peter. Excluding Peter, this was usually who was on your team with the exception of Bruce. Although with no Thor or Bruce, you knew that this mission might be a little more difficult than you planned. You hardly doubted yourself and the manifestation of such powerful abilities, but that was only when the number of your teammates lessened.

You had the powers of a Necromancer; able to utilize the magic revolving around the dead. This power lived inside you since the day you were born, a mutant was what you were. Different from your teammates who half of them were enhanced individuals, and super soldiers, and then normal un-enhanced people like Tony or Sam.

"Alright, you heard the man," you stepped in front of your small team as Steve and his group started off in the opposite direction. "We go in, we get out. Simple extraction mission. Peter," you said. He looked at you with wide eyes. "I want you by my side. No questions. Got it?"

Having the younger teammate put on your team had activated your over-protective mode.

Peter gulped and nodded, "Y-yeah. Okay, sure."

Bucky smirked from your side, loading up in his machine gun. Clint only grunted and strapped his quiver onto his back, full of arrows.

"Let's move."

||

"Jeezus, Parker! I thought I told you to stay by my side?!" You grunted, throwing your hand up as a blast of green illuminating magic sent a group of five HYDRA agents off their feet and into the wall next to them. The impact and force of your power left a dent in the wall, but that didn't phase you the slightest.

" _S-sorry, Y/N!_ " He panted, his voice wavering through the comms.

Your heart was thudding heavily in your chest causing an ache. The only thought on your mind was how you were going to reacue your team member who had purposely got himself into a deeper hole than necessary.

"Where are you?" You took harsh breaths as you dodged bullets and used your magic when needed. As you rounded a corner, you spotted the red and blue blurs of the boy, his movements hasty and quick as he fought his way through the mob of HYDRA agents. He was taking on too many of them. As you breathed out a sigh, the weight of your anxiety was still heavy on your shoulders. "Found you."

You marched forward, hand raised as a thick string of green energy surged towards the HYDRA men. As your eyes darted between Peter and his attackers, the need for his safety became more intense. Your energy wrapped around all of their feet, exluding Peter, and climbed up to their necks, literally chocking the life out of them. Technically, it was their life-force you were stealing from them, but they were dying nonetheless.

Peter fell to his knees, his eyes wide and jaw slacked as he watched you in action. It was one thing to see a super soldier in action, or Tony Stark in his Iron Man suit, but it a whole other thing to watch you so effortlessly take down a group of highly trained men with only a mere thought.

Just as the last of their life-force was emptied, your back roughly landed against the wall behind you. A ragged breath flew past your lips, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Anytime you used too much of your power you were instantly drained of your own energy.

He ran to your side, lifting you up with his arm wrapped around your waist. There was an instant blush spreading over his cheeks as he pawed at your flesh. Your shirt had ridden up only a fraction as you leaned your head lolled to his shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

You groaned, "You talk to much, Spiderling. I'll be fine. Just the side-effects of using too much power."

"What was that anyways?" The two of you walked out of the buildings where the rest of both teams were waiting. "Your power."

"Necromancy," You informed softly as the two of you neared the Quinjet. You gave him a weak side-glance, "Basically using anything dead related magic."

As you walked in, you noticed Natasha and Clint starting up the engines. Peter helped you over to the seat next to Pietro who kept glancing at you worriedly.

You leaned tiredly on Peter's shoulder, feeling him tense under you. "Good job, team," You gave a lazy thumbs up, and slouched into the cushion. After the team sent you their daily dose of concerned gazes, the Quinjet fell silent. "Peter?"

"Yeah?" He looked down at you, brushing a strand of your hair out from your face.

"You're not too bad."


	14. and i will love you pt I

As a young girl, you declared to the heavens that you would never fall in love. Your parents asked you why. You told them it was because you didn't want your heart broken; you didn't want to feel like the girls did in the romance movies after they had gotten their hearts broken and stomped on. They laughed at you and told you that it never always ended in heartbreak, and you believed them.

You believed them and you fell in love.

Within the first few weeks, you had devoted yourself to that one person who made you feel like you could do anything. You let yourself believe that maybe it wouldn't end in heartbreak...if you could just get past the initial fact that the person you were in love with had no clue how you felt.

That person was your best friend.

That person...was  _Peter Parker_.

Now you weren't too keen on the idea of sharing your life with anyone, but when it came to your best friend, there wasn't a doubt in your mind about wanting to spend the rest of your life with him. As cliche as that sounds--you absolutely hated how mushy he made you on the inside. Whenever he spoke your name, whenever his hand accidentally brushed against your own or your thigh; the feeling could simply only be described as pure elation and content. You hated feeling that way. You were supposed to be the girl who had that other part of yourself that hated everything and everyone.

You were turning into that hopeless romantic that you tried so hard to be the opposite of.

Unfortunately, it wasn't working one bit, and you were falling harder and faster for the brown eyed boy.

"I'm so stupid!" You threw your head down on the chemistry book in front of you, earning a light chuckle from your other friend that you grown close to. "Mich, why can't I just become a stripper? Chemistry sucks!  _Science_  sucks!"

She tore her eyes away from her own textbook, giving you a dubious look. "You literally go to a school that is all about science."

You rolled your eyes at her sarcasm, gnawing on your pencil. "Save me the irony, please."

She shrugged and looked back over at her homework that was getting done way quicker than yours was. You hated how smart she was--you wished you were smart like her.

"Why is everything in my life turning to shit?" You grumbled, lifting your head and rubbing the palms of your hands over your face tiredly.

"How do you mean?" Michelle anchored her neck towards you slightly, showing very little concern for your dilemma. She rarely showed any emotion with you--or anyone for that matter. But with you, she actually  _tried_.

For the second time that night, you rolled your eyes. "You know what I mean." You really didn't want to say it aloud, especially not in front of your close friend. Michelle always gave you shit when your mushy side showed even the slightest and you hated it.

"Oh, you mean your little crush you have on Peter?" She snickered, the corners of her lips angling upwards at your quiet huff. "It's not the end of the world, Y/N."

"It's not a crush, Michie." You groaned, your voice cracking. "That's the problem!  **I was stupid enough to fall in love with my best friend**. And it very well feels like the end of the fucking world. I feel like my ancestors are looking down on me right at this moment and laughing their asses off because I'm so fucking retarted and I don't know a simple fucking chemistry problem."

Michelle knew you could be a little bit over-dramatic, but once she heard your voice lower an octave and the very almost inaudible crack in it, she knew that you meant every word you were saying. And she would've comforted you if she weren't so closed off herself.

"Hey," she scooted forward, awkwardly patting your back as you covered your face with your hands. "It's...okay. Erm--don't--don't cry...?"

You laughed and removed your hands from your face to stare at her, "You suck at comforting people, you know that right?"

She pursed her lips and shrugged, turning back to her homework. "At least I tried."

"And I appreciate it," you sighed, clearing your throat and swallowing around the lump that began to form. "I'm not judging you, trust me. I am the same way."

If anything you were worse at it than she was--and that was saying something. But you wanna know the funny thing? When it came to comforting Peter, you were the softest human being ever and once again, you hated it.

"Y/N, hey!"

Speaking of.

The brown eyed boy tapped on your shoulder, causing you to turn around and come face to face with him. He was smiling widely down at you like he knew everyone's secrets. You hated that smile. You hated  _him_.

That was a lie. You were hopelessly devoted to him.

Being in love sucked ass.

"Hey, Pete." You smiled back warmly as he brought his backpack around to set it on the library table.

"This is my cue to leave," Michelle whispered so only you would hear, but you knew that Peter would be able to hear it because you knew he had his super Spidey senses. As your friend packed her things up, you could feel your chest constrict and it wasn't because of the chemistry homework. She threw a knowing smirk over her shoulder as she walked away, winking at you while Peter's focus was on your chemistry homework. You flipped her off and she blew you a kiss before leaving the school's library.

You turned back over to your best friend, "Where's Ned?" Usually the boy followed Peter everywhere and there wasn't a day where you didn't see the two together.

"He didn't want to come," he spoke, but his voice was unfocused and distracted. He was looking at your homework--the almost blank paper that sat on the table--with furrowed brows. "This is all wrong."

You groaned, throwing your head back onto the table, but apologizing once the librarian shot you an unamused look. "I knooooooow! I suck." You wanted to pout, you really did; you even had to stop yourself a couple of times, but you didn't need another reason for Peter to look at you the way he was looking at you now. "Peter, can you just set my homework on fire? I don't wanna look at it."

Now, it was his turn to roll his eyes, but still there was that soft gleam in his beautiful browns. And he really needed to stop looking at you like that because you didn't know if you could take it anymore. He was always soft and so so  _so_  kind around you.  _You hated it_.

Your cheek was pressed against the coldness of the table, "I hate homework. I hate school. I hate  _life_."

"You're so dramatic," he chuckled softly, turning back over to your paper. He rolled his sleeves up into a fold, his elbows resting on the table. His hands were loosely over the other as they skimmed his mouth. "Did you wanna--I dunno--come over?" He had whispered it, but his eyes were still focused on your homework. You noticed the red tint in his cheeks, but didn't think too much about it. "I mean, to- to study? I can, I can help you with this...if you'd like?"

Heat had risen into your cheeks this time and you found it incredibly difficult to look at him as he turned his head to gaze at you. There it was again, that damn look. That heart-warming grin, his cheeks glowing like he was seeing you for the first time. Your heart soared and you felt yourself caving in.

You nodded your head, not wanting to say anything until your heart stopped pounding against your chest like the wheels of a train on a railroad: heavy and rhythmical.

He nodded. "Okay, well, we can head over now. Aunt May would love to see you."

Although you tried your darnedest, you couldn't help fight the small endearing grin that ghosted across your lips as he packed your things back into your backpack for you. You were staring, and you knew it was a little weird especially since you hated showing fluffy emotion. But there was something about the way he was towards you, so kind and patient, and so  _so_  caring. At times you even thought for a split second that maybe he might feel the same way towards you the way you did towards him, but it was all gone once he made eye contact with Liz Allan. You could see it. The look in his eyes as he stared at the girl; it was the exact same way you stared at him.

You learned a couple of things whenever that happened. One of them being that Peter could never feel that way towards you and it shattered you.

And to think you thought that you'd never fall in love. What a load of bullshit.


	15. friday the 13th pt II

Realization flooded through your veins quicker than you could handle. You palmed Peter's chest, shoving him back as you ingested a huge gulp of air.

"No no no," you shook your head, fearing for your boyfriend's safety. "Pete, you need to go."

"What?" He stuttered, taking a step to you. "I'm not leaving you."

"Peter, please! Jason won't stop until I'm dead and, and I can't-" you brought your blood stained hand up to your mouth, stiffling your quiet sobs. You turned away and looked over the edge of the building, not seeing anything close to resembling your lunatic and immortal uncle. You decided right then and there that you had to do something.  _Anything_ that would get Peter to leave you so you could fight your uncle on your own.

"Who is  _he_ , Y/N? Please, you're freaking me out, and you know what happens when I freak out? You freak out even more then it's just an endless spiral of anxiety." His voice raised an octave, you could practically hear the fear in his voice.

You shuddered but turned around quickly coming face to face with a terrified Peter.

You stepped forward and wrapoed your hand around the back of his head, pulling him close and down ro your height so you could kiss him. He was so into the kiss that he didn't notice when you grabbed both of his wrists and crossed them over his chest, swiftly pressing down on them so the web fluid shot at his hands, rendering him unable to try and reach for you.

Peter struggled, looking down at his hands and then back over to you with shock evident in his face. "Y/N, what are you doing?" He struggled some more, his face twisting into panic. "I can help you, sweetheart.  _Please_."

Ignoring the persistency in his voice, you stepped back and admired your work in a rush, before stepping over the ledge and hooking your feet on the ladder.

"I'm sorry, Pete." You whispered, giving him one last longing look before dropping down.

You could hear his loud pleas as you darted down the alley, your feet pounding on the wet cement as rain pelted down on you. Your vision was growing bleary, and you could barely see where you were going. All you knew was that you had to get away and you needed to get away fast. You knew your boyfriend would be able to find you in the blink of an eye if you weren't careful. Peter was a smart boy--an even smarter vigilante.

As your bare feet sloshed around in the puddles of rain, you couldn't help but remind yourself of the reason you ran in the first place. The reason you were running right now. Fear iced your lungs as you uncle's face flashed through your mind, and you stopped running immediately, paranoia settling deep within your bones.

Your movements were frantic, your eyes darted from every possible corner of the street you ended on. With calculation, you maneuvered away from the middle of the road and stepped onto the sidewalk, knowing that if Jason wanted you dead you'd be chopped up liver by now. Still, you couldn't help but feel an extra pair of eyes on you as you stood there eerily.

As the rain began to pelt down with more force, you let out a trembling breath, your teeth chattering. " _Where are you, you son-of-a-bitch_?" The words tumbled past your lips in a harsh whisper as you searched wildly around yourself.

Surely, he would have made an early return. He wasn't one on giving up that easily. He followed you all the way from California--it made sense that he wouldn't just give up  _now_? Now, that he followed you all the way to New York.

He sure did plan this whole thing out, you thought bitterly as you began to backpedal, your arms scarcely at your sides and ready to fight your enemy off if he made an entrance.

"C'mon, Jason." You muttered, your chin trembling; whether it was from the cold rain or from your fright, you had no clue. Maybe it was both. Although, it also could be from the ample amount of blood you were losing from all the slashes your uncle made at you.

Your mouth opened to let out a blood-curling scream just as fingertips dug deep into your shoulder blade. You were yanked back and flung into a brick wall of an alleyway. Once your back collided roughly against the wall, leaving a barely even noticeable dent in the bricks, you didn't even have to look up to witness your mass-murdering uncle.

He walked almost robotically towards you as you managed to pull yourself up into a sitting position, your back still against the wall behind you. With as much strength you had left, you spat some blood onto the pavement and watched it mix in with the pelting downpour.

"You think I'm just gonna give up, Jason?" You snarled, blood coating your teeth and you bared them. Some even slipped out past the corners of your lips, but you ignored that and wiped at it quickly. "Answer me, motherfucker!"

He stopped walking, his blade still remained in his hand. Tilting his head to the side, you felt as his eyes were trained on you almost lifeless and void-like.

You were causing a distraction, knowing that if you stalled him long enough you'd be able to conjure up your power and use it to your advantage.

"I'm not as hopeless as you think I am. I'm not like any of your past victims, Jason. I'm not the damsel at the end of every goddamn horror movie. I'm the survior in this story, do you hear me? I'm going to crush that murderous head of yours until your withering under my fingertips. You think you can just come here, murder  _my_   _sister_ , and get away with it?" You could feel that familiar tug in your chest ignite slowly--painfully slow--but you never wavered or showed him any sign that you were working out a plan.

He stayed quiet, but your heart constricted frantically in your chest as he began to walk towards you again. The machete in his hand lifted further into the air as he neared you, his hockey-masked face causing chills to run down your spine.

"I'm sorry, Jason, but this isn't how I'm supposed to die." The same murderous glint in his eyes reflected off of yours and you jumped up, clearly startling him and yourself.

You felt the rage building up inside of your chest, spreading throughout your entire being like a wildfire. The desire to kill was almost overwhelming as you marched forward, letting your alter-ego take control.

You weren't like most enhanced beings, and when you were in control of your power you were simply merciless and deadly--a force to be reckoned with. The way you were able to lose total and complete control on your enemies was something Thanos would find intimidating. You were absolute chaos.

Using your lower body strength, you pushed upwards and lunged for your uncle just as he waved his weapon outwards. It slashed at your arm but it merely caused an actual reaction out of you and instead it only angered you further.

You landed on his back, wrapping your thighs tightly against him as he struggled to get you off of him. He swung his blade around hoping to injure you, but you were quick and sunk your fingertips into his neck causing him to let out a loud gargled gasp. All the while growling, you wasted no time in drawing more blood then necessary. His neck had a gaping hole on the side, blood squirting out and splatting onto your face and in your mouth.

You wouldn't let him touch you--you refused. Pure rage had consumed you and nothing could stop you, but you were momentarily caught off guard as the familiar shout of your boyfriend's voice calling your name frantically made you look towards him.

Jason took this opportunity and threw you off of him. You landed a good fifteen feet away from him, your body skidding to a halt in front of a dumpster. Your back would most likely be scratched up and bloody if you had the chance to examine it, but the rage inside of you hadn't subsided even the slightest.

You watched distantly as Jason turned away from you to lock his eyes on Peter, who now stood with his mask on and at the end of the alleyway.

Your heart lurched, and for a split second you were frozen--every single cell in your body refused to make you move forward or move at all. The hair on your arms, legs, and back of your neck stood on end. It felt as though your Berserker ability had been drained just by the mere thought of Peter getting hurt by your uncle.

"Peter,  _no_!" You bellowed, blood spurting from your lips. Your feet finally began to move just as Peter flung multiple webs at Jason. He had activated 'Instant Kill Mode' once he saw the state you were in.

You broke out into a sprint as Jason and your boyfriend neared one another, forcing yourself to run faster before they could tear each other apart. But not even having such powers as the ones you had was enough to help you run faster. In that moment in time you wished you had super speed because Jason was ruthless in handling Peter.

You watched helplessly as your uncle slashed at Peter with his machete, cutting deep into his side and falling to the floor in a heap of groans and loud cries.

That seemed to be the necessary boost to start up your power as anger flooded your veins from hearing your other half fall down. Your hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at your side and you charged, not bothering to slow as you neared the murderer.

A blood curling scream slipped past your lips as you latched yourself onto him. The machete in his hand clinked to ground beneath you while you clung to him in hopes of catching him off guard. You knocked the both of you down, using as much of your extra added weight in taking him down to the rainy floor.

Your thighs had pinned him to the ground, and he struggled underneath your weight unable to get his hands free. "I told you," you tore off his mask, revealing a horrible sight of old burned flesh. Your irises flickered between your normal color and a darkening orange as you wrapped one hand on his upper jaw and another on the lower half. "This isn't how I die."

You began to tear and tear until you could hear the familiar crack of bones and rip of flesh. "This is how  _you die_ , Jason."

Using all your remaining strength, you tore his jaw apart, succeeding in your handiwork of breaking his face--literally. The upper half of his jaw and face was flung several feet away from you while the other remained on the rest of his mangled body.

Almost instantly you were drained of your energy, and you could slowly start to feel yourself losing cosciousness but you forced yourself to stay awake just enough to check on Peter.

"Y/N?" His voice cracked, sounding weak; your head turned away sharply and your eyes landed on him. He had himself leaned up against the brick wall with his hand pressed tightly to his wound to try and staunch the blood flow, but the blood was seeping through the creases of his fingers. His mask was off and in his other hand. "Who-who  _was_ that? A-and how-how did you-?"

You hurried over to him, kneeling down to his level and hushed him with teary eyes, "Shh, don't talk. I need to get you out of here before you bleed out on me."

He took notice in the blood that covered your face, and you immediately wiped furiously at your skin. It didn't really help, and the blood had spread across more of your cheeks and forehead. You cleared some of the blood, but you could still feel some leaking into the corners of your eyes.

"Why d-didn't you tell me?" His voice was low and anxious as you lifted his arm over your shoulders, carrying him away from the one-man-massacre that ensued.

You sniffled unable to meet his softening gaze, as the two of you limped away. "I was trying to protect you, Pete. I guess I only  _thought_  I was keeping you safe by not telling you. I was wrong. I'm so, so sorry."

Peter leaned into you, and you made a mental note to walk faster. "It's okay," he whispered faintly, pressing a kiss to your irritated and bloodied jaw. "I forgive you."

You let out a relieved breath, and clutched him tighter to your side.

It was finally over.

You had won.


	16. the four times your heart couldn't take it

You wouldn't admit it—like ever—but you were a very stubborn person. It wasn't that you found this out on your own, no, your closest friends would always remind you of it. One of those people who would remind you constantly of it was your best friend; Peter Parker. The too innocent and kind-hearted boy you knew since the third grade. It was considered a routine to remind you every once in awhile that you were the most stubborn person on the planet. Of course, you already knew this—then again you really could care less.

On a particular snowy day, you had totally dismissed the fact that you would need your sweater while going to meet up with Ned and Peter. At first, you kept telling yourself that you didn't need it, even if it was below thirty degrees outside. But as soon as you made it halfway to Peter's apartment building—which was at least a ten minutes walk from yours—you began to grow cold. And it wasn't the slight shivers type of cold, it was the teeth-chattering, finger numbing, freezing type of cold. You were a baby when it came to cold weathers—Peter knew this.  _You_  knew this. But yet, here you were, being the stubborn person that you were, and walking with one layer of clothing on your frail body in the snow!

Once you reached Peter's front door, you were just barely getting yourself to warm up. Your teeth was still chattering every five minutes, but you knew it would start up again right after you and Peter left.

You raised your fist, then knocked once. The door swung open not even a minute later, and there stood your best friend with a comfy and thick grey sweater on. You glared at him, but he looked past that and only gave you a wide heart-stopping grin.

 _Goodness_ , you would do anything to witness that smile everyday and all day. It was one of your favorites. Not that you were keeping track of every single one of his smiles. Okay, that was a lie. You were. You always were. To be completely honest, you were hopelessly smitten with the boy. And his smiles were just one of the things you absolutely adored about him. His heart was the second.

"Hey, Pete." Your teeth chattered as you spoke.

He took notice in that, of course, and immediately frowned. You felt bad for being the reason behind that down-pull of his lips. But then again, you felt special when he worried about you. Yeah, you were selfish, but only when it came to Peter.

"Why didn't you bring a sweater? It's like twenty degrees outside." He asked, his brows furrowing. "Here—" he turned around, reaching for one of his other jackets that was hung precariously on the coat rack but you instantly shook your head.

"No, It's fine. I'm alright." You grabbed his arm, stopping him.

He rolled his eyes, grabbing the jacket anyways. "I'm bringing this just in case. I know how stubborn you are."

You had to agree with him, but then again, you didn't want to verbally express it. So, instead you only nodded and hugged your long-sleeved pink shirt closer to your body. The sleeves were long enough to overlap onto your knuckles so you took advantage of that and brought both of your hands up to your mouth, blowing on them slightly. The two of you made it outside into the cold air five minutes later and you mentally screamed at yourself for being too stubborn.

_Why didn't you just take the damn jacket?!_

"So, did you watch that video of Spider-Man on YouTube? How he saved those kids at the Washington Monument?" You pondered aloud, capturing the attention of your best friend.

He tensed almost immediately, but as he glanced at you and saw your eyes light up at the mention of his alter-ego, a swell of pride resonated within him and he grinned mischievously. To humor you, he nodded his head and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Y-yeah, pretty amazing."

You giggled, a beautiful sound to Peter's ears,  _"Pretty_   _amazing?_  Peter, he's a hero—I think he deserves more than 'pretty amazing'."

He went quiet, and for a moment you thought that maybe his attention was elsewhere, but as soon as you turned your eyes to him, his focus was solely and intensely on you. Your breath hitched in your throat and as if you made a split second decision, you turned back to look ahead of you—ignoring the feeling in your stomach as you felt his eyes on the side of your head.

You needed to break the silence with something—the awkwardness was consuming you and you wanted to hide under a rock. So you did the first thing that came to your mind, and called yourself out on your stubbornness and rubbed your hands together as if to purposely point out that you were freezing. Hey, anything to get his mind and focus off of you and vice versa.

" _Jeezus_ , it's freezing." You chuckled awkwardly.

Peter seemed to snap out of his small trance, huffing out a laugh. Without saying anything he handed you the jacket, one of his—which was way too big for you—then hesitated a moment after you slipped it around you begrudgingly. A soft endearing grin secretly made its way onto your face as you hugged his jacket closer to your trembling body, warmth instantly filling you to the core.

In your head, you were laughing evilly like Doctor Evil in Austin Powers, but on the outside you tried you hardest to look irritated. It wasn't working.

And Peter saw right through it. He always did, and this was always unbeknownst to you.

Before you could get a proper 'thank you' out, Peter had softly grabbed both of your hands before rolling up the too long sleeves of his jacket, that was not so snugly around you, and began to blow on your fingers. The two of you had stopped walking merely a minute ago due to your shock. His focus was on your nimble fingers, and you couldn't help but welcome the rush of warmth surge through your body. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration—while simultaneously rubbing your hands with his own and continuing to blow gently on them.

That was the first time your heart couldn't take it.

The second time was when you found out that he was Spider-Man, and he made you promise not to tell anybody.

This was also the second time meeting the famous hero of Queens. The first time you met him, you had accidentally bumped into him while running to catch the subway to school. It was early in the morning so you were uncoordinated and clumsy. So, on your way back from your piano lessons, a certain charming hero had popped up right beside you—startling you.

"Oh, it's just you." You held a hand to your chest, a nervous smile on your face as you took in his red and blue suit.

He grinned behind the mask even if you couldn't see, then gave you a small wave. "Hiya."

"What's up, Spider?" Despite how much you warned yourself to steer clear of the masked hero, you simply couldn't. You couldn't figure out why you were so attached to his presence, although you wondered maybe it could be because he gave you that same aura of your best friend Peter.

"Just roaming the streets," he shrugged and you tightened the straps of your backpack with nervous fingers."Y'know," he playfully tsked. "It's not safe to be walking by yourself at this time of day."

You rolled your eyes, "Yeah, yeah. I know—I've heard this too many times from my best friend."

"He's right, though."

"I never told you what gender my best friend was—" You replied, your brows furrowing as you gave him a side-glance. He gulped then cleared his throat awkwardly. "How did you know they were a boy?"

"Wild guess?" He offered, his voice going high-pitched at the intensity of your gaze.

"Sure," you threw back, slowly turning your gaze back onto the sidewalk ahead of you. A cold breeze blew past you and you shivered, damning yourself for once again not bringing a  _freaking_  sweater.

"Cold?" Spider-Man said, his voice hinting at a sliver of concern.

Immediately, you shook your head. "Nope."

He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. "You're a stubborn one."

"So I've been told."

It grew silent as the two of you stepped into a comfortable pace and distance, though every few minutes, you felt his hand brush against your thigh or your own hand. You weren't certain, but you could've sworn that every time his hand brushed against your own smaller one you could feel his fingers almost interlock with yours. As if it was second nature to the masked hero.

Warmth flooded your entire body as that happened and you cursed yourself for even remotely feeling anything towards him. You already felt that way towards someone else. You couldn't feel that way towards another person.

With a small huff, you slipped your hand into your pocket, muttering an apology to the hero beside you. "I can't stand silence." You pulled out your earphones and plugged them into your phone, finding a decent song to listen to. "Do you mind if I sing a little?" You gestured to your phone with raised eyebrows, and plugged one into the ear that was farthest from Spider-Man so you could hear him when he spoke.

"You sing?" He breathed out, sounding shocked.

You gave him a shy smile and a vague nod, scrolling through your list until you found a song.

"It's a hobby of mine," you continued, letting the sweet melody of Sara Bareilles'  _I Choose You_  sounded softly through your ear. You started off with a soft hum—a smile adorning your lips as Peter's face entered your head—then began to sing the words you wished you could sing to your best friend:

_There was a time when I would have believed them..._

_If they told me you could not come true_

_Just love's illusion..._

_But then you found me_

_And everything changed_

_And I believed in something again_ _..._

_My whole heart will be yours forever_

_This is a beautiful start_

_To a lifelong love letter..._

Your voice sent chills down his spine, his heart thumping, and his chest constricting with absolute adoration as you sang softly. He could hear the song playing through your earphones even though you hadn't turned it up all the way. He had heard you play that song millions of times before—when it was just the two of you doing homework or studying and he always knew that you wanted to sing in front of him, but he knew how shy you could be when it came to you singing in front of people.

Peter noticed how sweetly your lips moved to the words, not messing up once. He noticed the way your fingers wiggled slightly in tune with the song—or how that small quirk of your lips was you getting lost in the sound as your eyes fluttered closed.

 _God_ , he loved it.

But once the song was over and you stopped singing, his face dropped—instantly missing the beautiful sound of your voice.

You laughed, as if reliving an old memory. "When I was younger me and my dad used to sing together. He would play his acoustic and sing with me and when he didn't know a song he would still play his best on that damn guitar of his," you paused, a frown decorating your face. "We don't do it anymore, sadly."

Peter knew this; he could remember all the times you paused a song just to tell him that you and your father sang that one together. Never had he heard you sing before. He never even witnessed it once, until now, of course. But he wished he could hear you sing as Peter—not Spider-Man. He hated that you had to hide this part of you, and especially from him and Ned. He wanted you to feel comfortable enough to be yourself—your complete self around him. He loved it. He loved  _you_.

He smiled softly down at you, his insides all fuzzy and warm. "You should sing more—" he replied, then continued, "I mean—you have a beautiful voice. You shouldn't have to hide that part of you. I'm sure your friends would love to listen to you sing."

Your cheeks exploded in a rosy pink color, "Oh, err—thanks."

"Just being honest," he shrugged, stopping as you reached your apartment building.

"Well, this is me." You paused your music and pulled out your earphone before stuffing them along with your phone in your pocket.

He already knew that. He lived down the street from you, and has ever since the two of you were younger than you were now.

You were staring at him; brows furrowed and your bottom lip sucked in between your teeth. He could see you shaking from the harsh winds, your teeth chattering when you weren't biting your lip.

"I can give you a lift up, if you want," he motioned up with his hand towards the fire escape and your face flushed. He rushed out his next words, sensing your discomfort. "Only if you want, of course."

You smiled nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "That would be great," you nodded then continued, "But I must warn you—I have a terrible fear of falling."

He tilted his head, his gaze softening behind his mask. "What's so wrong with falling?"

You startled, gawping at him and unaware of the total love-struck expression hidden behind that damn mask of his. His voice came out in a whisper—a sort of longing in is tone. You knew he had to have meant something totally different from what you thought—what you hoped he meant by it.

Before you could even get another thought out, he had stepped forward and gripped your small frame snug to his. "Ready?"

Without looking up at him, you nodded your head. Your fingers hooked around one of his arms, while the other was wrapped around his back—not once missing the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach as you felt his biceps. He smelt nice, too.

"Hold on." He whispered then quickly and expertly shot a web to the top of the building complex, pulling you both up swiftly and safely. Before you knew it, he had landed you next to your bedroom window—and the realization of him knowing about which one was yours without you telling him hadn't crossed your mind until you pulled away.

"Wait," you held up a hand, frowning. "How—" you breathed out through your nose. "How did you know which one was mine?"

"Oh, err—you told me, earlier. Yeah." He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.

You stepped back cautiously, lowering your hand. "No... No, I definitely didn't," you squinted your eyes at him, tilting your head.

"Pretty sure you did," he replied quickly, his voice raising an octave.

"Pretty sure that I  _didn't_." You argued back, your voice showing confusion at the oddly familiar sound of his voice.

And that's when it finally hit you.

You could feel your entire body grow cold with shock, and your eyes slightly widened at the realization, hitting you with full force. You felt like you had been hit with a semi-truck. Your heart pounded roughly against your rib-cage.

A gasp escaped slipped past your lips, and your hand flew up to your mouth. "Peter Benjamin Parker, is that you?!"

"What? No—who's that?! I don't know a Peter. You must be mistaken." His hands swung around animatedly and his voice grew panicked. His heart had dropped to his stomach at your words—he didn't know what to do. Maybe he could get himself out of this one. Just maybe.

But you were a stubborn girl.

You poked his chest, your eyes still wide. "Peter, drop the damn act. I know your voice when I hear it." You were just a little disappointed that you hadn't heard and realized it sooner.

He visibly deflated in front of you, "Okay, okay. Let's talk inside?"

"You have a lot of explaining to do, Parker."

The third time your heart couldn't take it was the day before Prom when Peter had confidently walked up to you and asked you to be his date.

It was a normal day, well as normal as any other day would have been if you hadn't caught Peter staring at you every two minutes. The first two times you thought nothing of it because it was Peter—Peter always stared off in the distance and sometimes at you. But this was different. His eyes lingered a little longer than normal and whenever you caught him in the act he would turn away immediately, his face exploding in red.

Michelle even pointed it out a couple of times. She would smirk and nudge your arm with her shoulder, whispering to you that he was staring. And it was an involuntary response to look over at him—or wherever she was pointing. Your cheeks would heat up at the realization that your best friend couldn't keep his eyes off of you.

By the end of the day, you could feel yourself growing undeniably anxious for some unknown reason. You kept telling yourself that there was nothing to anxious about but you had an odd sense of intuition. It was something your friends admired.

You couldn't have hated it as much as you did at this moment. At the moment you stood at your locker, stuffing your books into it and noticing Peter walking towards you with a bounce to his step. As he neared you could hear the familiar  _lub dub_  of your heart connect to your ribs, drop to your stomach only to come back up and repeat.

"Y/N, hey." He smiled nervously down at you.

You smiled back, just as nervous. You turned to face him after closing your locker door, clutching onto the straps of your backpack as you began to make your way out of the school's doors. Peter followed anxiously by your side, his own hands gripping the straps of his backpack.

"Err—did you—I mean, would you—"

You stopped walking and turned to look at him, brows furrowed. "Peter, are you okay? You've been acting weird all day and I—"

"Did you want to go to Prom with me?" He had cut you off, his words rushed and his face pulling into a panicked, pleading expression.

Your words died down as you began to process his words; they echoed around in your head causing you to sputter like a fish out of water. You had no idea how to respond to him and you realized that it was because you were shocked. You were very shocked—and  _confused_. Surely, he didn't like you the way you did. You would've noticed it sooner...right?

At your hesitance, Peter's face fell. "If you don't want to that's okay. I just thought that maybe you—"

Panic settled within you at his words. You didn't want him to change his mind—you didn't want him to even doubt your answer because in all honesty, you were really freaking happy. You had waited years, and now, the opportunity to possibly tell him how you felt was at its peak. If only you could find that little piece of confidence to speak the words, to say them and then some. You would tell him tomorrow—at Prom—while the two of you danced to a slow song. You just had to find that confidence.

"Peter," you cut him off in mid-rant with a small sincere smile, "I would  _love_  to go to Prom with you."

He smiled, but it wasn't his usual sparkly, shy grin. It was drawn and sincere in a way that suggested that was not entirely sure what to feel. "Wait—really?"

You nodded, laughing softly at his shock then palmed his forehead, shoving him back playfully. "Of course I'll go with you, Dork."

Now, the fourth time your heart couldn't take it, was easily one of the most intense moments of your life.

And as much as you hated to admit it—it came as a huge shock to you because you never got that courage to tell him about how you felt out on the dance floor. You hadn't even gotten the chance to thank him because halfway during the dance he was telling you that he needed to go, and you understood—you truly did. He was Spider-Man; he was Queen's hero, of course he would be busy and need to run off to go save the city. Needless to say, he made it up to you right after.

It was the night of Prom when your heart couldn't take it.

Peter had showed up at your bedroom window, clad in his Spider-Man suit.

It was nearing midnight when you heard a soft tap on your window. Since you were a light sleeper, your eyes fluttered open almost instantaneously and they darted over to the other side of your room. A gasp escaped your lips once you took notice in the tears that littered his suit. He had a hand pressed onto his side near his ribs, and his mask was off—clutched tightly in his free hand.

You swung your legs off the side of your bed, pulling one of Peter's hoodies closer to your body as you slowly slid up the window, careful not to wake up your parents.

"Oh, Pete," you whispered, helping him inside and gently guiding him to sit on your bed. You didn't waste any time and walked into your bathroom, grabbing the first-aid kit.

He chuckled while you sat in between his legs on your knees, tugging him closer to you. "I'm supposed to be the worrier."

"It's okay to let people take care of you," you whispered, your tone much more quieter as you took in his exhaustion. There were heavy bags underneath his beautiful browns, you noticed as you cupped his chin—which he instantly leaned into—then you moved his head from side to side so you could get a better look at the damage done. You settled for tipping his chin back so his focus was on you, and you gave him a saddening smile. "Let me clean you up, alright?"

He gave you a vague nod, closing his eyes momentarily as you removed your fingers from his chin. His eyes opened several seconds later to watch you work on the small cuts that littered his face, his chest—you had to get him to pull down the top half of his suit for that part. Even though, your gaze was focused on the wounds, you couldn't help but let your mouth water at the sight of his abs.

_When did he even get those?_

As you worked on his injuries with your tongue stuck out slightly in concentration, Peter couldn't help but notice the small worried frown that pulled at your lips. He was brought back to what had happened only hours ago, when he ditched you at Prom to go be Spider-Man. Guilt clouded his thoughts, and without realizing what he was doing, he reached up and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

He's always wanted to do that.

A small timid smile tugged at the corners of your lips, but you didn't stop working on his wounds.

"I'm sorry."

It was that moment you stopped, taking your time in looking up at him with furrowed brows. Your hand had froze, along with the gauze lifting off his cheekbone; you slowly lowered your hand, tilting your head.

"Peter, I told you that you never had to apologize to me when you had to go be Spider-Man," you pointed out and his heart constricted painfully, watching you with a small pout. "I forgive you, alright?"

"You shouldn't even have to forgive me," he argued back softly, taking you off-guard. "This night was supposed to be all about you—and I—I was too busy worrying about my job as Spider-Man, that I didn't even stop to—"

"Peter," you warned breathlessly, cutting him off. There was a hint of confusion in your voice. "What...what  _exactly_  are you trying to say?"

He gulped as you watched him from your perched position between his legs, the gauze now long forgotten. You leaned back on your calves, your wide, doe eyes searching his face for an answer.

He leaned forward slowly, cupped your cheek with one hand while pressing his forehead onto yours. Your breath hitched at the close proximity, and your eyes went cross-eyed as you tried to look up at him.

You opened your mouth to question the sudden change in demeanor, but he cut you, pressing his lips to your forehead. His lips lingered and you held your breath, exhaling as he finally pulled away to stare down at you.

"Peter—"

"I've been meaning to tell you something for some time now, Y/N, and it kills me that you don't know just how much I care about you," your breathing quickened and you bit your lip in anticipation. "I...I'm in lo—"

You lurched forward with wide eyes, squeezing his cheeks together with one hand in hopes of shutting him up. "Don't say it."

His face lost all color, but he didn't stop. "...In love with you."

Tears had begun to pool in your eyes, and slowly, you began to pull your hand away, but Peter caught your hand before it could fall completely away from his reach. He squeezed your hand while your expression became vacant as if you were inside your head, not really processing his words just yet.

"Say something." He pleaded with his lips pressed tenderly to your knuckles.

"You—" you swallowed past the lump in your throat, your gaze finally meeting his. "You mean that?"

He nodded, his gaze softening while he cupped your cheek, brushing away a lone tear as it cascaded down your cheekbone. "Every word."

You breathed out as if you were on the verge of drowning, coming back up for air. "I was supposed to get the courage to tell that to you out on the dance floor," you laughed, tears freely sliding down your cheeks; they were happy tears. "I wanted to tell you so badly—I'm such a wuss."

Peter's face seemed to light up at your confession:  _you loved him, too_. He could finally breathe properly now. There was no weight being pressed down on his chest anymore—he could  _breathe_.

The brightest smile took over his features, and you beamed back through blurry vision, feeling your breath catch once more as he leaned in slowly.

He was going to kiss you.  _Holy shit—Peter Parker was going to kiss you!_

It was your first kiss; hesitant and nervous. His lips hovered inches from yours for a few seconds before they barely brushed together, ghosting over yours eversoslightly, causing you to swoon. It was just a soft press, but it ignited your entire body. And when you pulled away, breathless and content, he looked at you like every girl wished to be looked at—you weren't sure if your heart could take such intensity.

"I love you." You finally whispered back.

Your heart really couldn't handle it now.

You weren't sure if it ever could, but you knew you would be okay because Peter would be there.  _Always_. 


	17. dark matter

A feather light kiss was pressed to your hipbone making you shiver. The corners of your lips pulled upwards, and you made an adorable noise that was a mix between a moan and a sigh. "Peter," you giggled with a sing-song voice, your eyes closed as your fingers danced through his brown locks. He let out a soft hum, and you tugged gently on his hair, and a muffled  _not yet_ , as you leaned your head further into his pillow.

You knew you couldn't let this go far, aunt May would be coming in to " _wake up_ " her Nephew. May didn't exactly know that you were in Peter's bedroom--she didn't even know you were in her apartment. You had snuck out of yours late last night, per Peter's request, and snuck in through his window. It was midnight when you remembered slipping from reality as Peter rubbed your back, your arms. He kissed your temple as you drifted, softly whispering I love you in your ear with your head on his chest.

Focusing back on reality, you swooned as Peter's lips began to travel upwards. His lips felt so amazingly gentle on your skin as he peppered them on your stomach and then the side of your breast that slightly poked out of one of his tank tops you wore. Once his lips reached your jaw, you could see his beautiful brown irises come into focus from your bleary state of euphoria. Your hands stayed planted in his hair as he showered you with his unlimited amount of love. It seemed the kisses would go on forever, and you really wanted them to, but you knew you had to get going soon so you yourself could get ready for school.

His bare chest was flesh against yours, a goofy grin on his face as he tried to keep the bulk of his wait off of you. You didn't mind. You loved seeing this side of him when it was just the two of you.

Leaning forward, he pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth and you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his back. He leaned closer to you, laying his chin on your chest. You pressed a loving kiss to his forehead, feeling his eyes on you.

"You better hope your aunt doesn't walk in here soon." You said, adjusting the black and silver cuffs on your wrists that you refused to ever take off.

Peter never knew why you wouldn't, and the one time he asked you about them, you quickly changed the subject. It was the first time the two of you held hands-the day after his Decathlon-when Peter realized that you were never really seen without them off. The conversation made you uncomfortable, and he never liked making you uncomfortable, so he shrugged it off. The thick cuffs entrapped around your wrists were...not something you found accessorising. In fact, you didn't like looking at them-that was why you wore long sleeved shirts or sweaters or anything to cover them up from the world around you.

Peter rolled his eyes at you, his lips ghosting over your jawline. You swiftly pulled his Star Wars blanket over your heads then wrapped your thighs around his waist. A giggle escaped your lips as he leaned closer and smothered you with little pecks, his face was practically pressed so deep into your neck you wondered if he could properly breathe.

"You smell nice," he replied after a quiet second, his voice muffled by your neck.

"I would hope so. I'm wearing your body wash," you replied with a small grin, running your fingers over the length of his bare back-feeling every dimple and crevice.

He pulled away and kissed you on the lips, but it was such a quick peck that it had your lips blindly and subconsciously reaching for his. You pouted and shoved him playfully. He only laughed at you, but it was a sincere laugh-the ones that made your heart flutter heavily in your chest. You prayed that he couldn't hear just how desperate your heart was beating for him.

For a quiet moment, the two of you just gazed at each other-not saying anything-until the door to his bedroom started to creak open. Your eyes widened just as Peter rolled over and splayed his blankets over your form, hoping his aunt wouldn't notice the lump beside him.

"Peter-oh, you're awake," she said with a small smile, her head poking out from behind the door. She totally overlooked the huge lump on his bed for a bundle of his pillows, and hadn't noticed the flushed cheeks of her nephew as he leaned awkwardly back into his head.

"Hey, Aunt May-hey, err, yeah. I'll get dressed in a minute." He pretended to just be waking up even though he's been up for an hour already, then stretched his limbs, letting out a forced yawn.

May only smiled sweetly at the boy, "Okay-I'll go make breakfast. Be ready in twenty."

Once May walked out, closing the door behind her, you peaked your head out from the blankets, a smirk tilting your lips as you looked up at your boyfriend. You felt so rebellious every time you came over and had to hide-it gave you a rush and you loved being sneaky.

"You are trouble, you know that?" He pulled you into his side, and you kissed the corner of his mouth, humming while doing so.

"Well,  **you should've ran away the second we met**." His brows furrowed slightly at that as if he knew there was a deeper meaning behind that-which, there kind of was.

You weren't the most perfect person in the world. You had secrets of your own, and it haunted you everyday knowing that Peter felt comfortable with telling you his big secret while you still hadn't found the courage to tell him  _your_ deepest secret. Peter never suspected you to have such a terrible secret-he never thought you were anything but perfect because in his eyes you could do absolutely nothing wrong. When the two of you met-which was pretty hilarious once you thought about it-you didn't think you would fall so hard for the boy. You didn't think anyone could possibly fall as hard as you did the day you met because the way it happened was uncanny and very awkward.

It was a particularly warm day when you two crossed paths. Peter had just gone out for his daily swing around the city and you were the lucky person who was close by when some random dude had darted out from an alleyway, bumping into you and with a backpack in his hands that you assumed wasn't his to begin with. So, you did what any regular polite person would do and you grabbed it from the burglar. A half an hour later, you were sitting in the alleyway having a strange feeling that the owner of the backpack would be back soon, and that's when you caught Spider-Man changing out of his suit. You were standing there awkwardly, holding the backpack in your hands with that wide doe-eyed look on your face.

You could remember it clear as day. Like it was a bittersweet memory that you relived everyday ever since. You could remember hastily gripping the straps in your hand, then his eyes darted to the bag and then back up to your eyes-his eyes also wide and filled shock. He had no reason to be anything but because you had just saw the boy beneath the mask, and you weren't sure if that could be such a victory because you knew he had to be taking precautious, right?

So, with red cheeks, you quickly flung your arm outwards towards the hero and apologized to him profousely. You explained to him that you had a strange feeling that this belonged to someone and that you caught someone trying to steal it-and you were stumbling over your words, no doubt making a fool out of yourself. But Peter, couldn't really care that you had saw him without his mask on; what he cared about was that you were kind enough to go out of your way to do something selfless. And it was all because you didn't like bullies. Something he could definitely relate to.

"Earth to Y/N," Peter chuckled, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You turned red, and shuffled quietly out of his bed, the hem of Peter's tank top flowing past your waist, skimming across your thighs. You were tiny compared to your boyfriend-although it really didn't bother you one bit. The only thing that remotely got on your nerves was when he made fun of your height consistently. Like he would frequently use your shoulders as arm rests, or he would purposely put something that you needed at the top of the shelf, then play it off as a coincidence and offer you a boost on his shoulders. You figured he just loved giving you shoulder and piggy back rides. It was adorable at first but then it got really irritating after awhile.

"I cannot be late for Chemistry again," You groaned and walked over to your pile of clothes that rested on Peter's desk chair. You turned away from your boyfriend and shed the tank top, feeling his eyes on you as you stripped in front of him. You pulled on your ACDC t-shirt back on after strapping your bra on, then slipped into your jeans before turning back around to face the love-struck fool who still hadn't gotten out of bed.

He was propped up on his elbow, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand. His eyes glazed over with longing, and he was giving you those eyes-those damn wide and expressive brown eyes. The ones that made your heart melt into itty bitty pieces.

"I'll see you at lunch, mister." You snickered while giving him a dramatic roll of your eyes. After grabbing your backpack and slipping into you black and white converse, you walked over to him and pressed your lips lovingly to his forehead with your palm against his cheek-it was warm. Your lips lingered there and for a moment; Peter was in such a daze that he had reacted at the last minute and leaned into your touch just as you were pulling away from him.

He loved when you gave him forehead kisses. They felt almost territorial and over-protective. Like you wanted him to know that you wouldn't let anything happen to him, and you really meant that. You did. You would protect Peter with every fiber of your being-until you could no longer do so.

As you pulled away, a small sincere smile on your lips, Peter looked up at you with wonder, like a child asking his mother an intriguing question.

"See you later, Spider-Man." You winked then discretely slipped out of his window, closing it before hoping down from the fire escape and making your way to Midtown High School. The place you dreaded the most.

You never made it to school that morning; you hadn't even made it three blocks down the street before you were pulled into a white van while someone covered your mouth with a rag drenched in chloroform. Almost instantly, your whole body caved and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your frail figure slumped into the arms of your attacker. Your eyes fluttered open hours later and you were tied down to a chair with your arms pulled behind your back; you could feel the chains pinching at your wrists as you struggled against them, but sighed in relief once you realized that the cuffs were still intact.

Various images and scenes flashed through your head a thousand miles a minute and everything came back all at once, flooding your senses and causing a wave of panic began to set in. You could remember walking down the street when suddenly you were pulled into a van-and this all happened right after you left Peter's house.

You jerked, a gasp escaping your throat. "Peter!"  _Where was Peter?_

"Your boyfriend doesn't know where you are," A voice spoke.

Your eyes darted quickly over to the other side of the room where there was hardly any light for your eyes to adjust to. The only source of light was a dimly lit, varnished silver chandelier that hung eerily right above you. You couldn't the source of the voice, but you could feel it as if the person was right next to you. It was something you had to focus real hard on-to be able to feel one's presence when they were farther away than you expected.

"Who are you?" You croaked, your voice losing its volume. It was like you had been screaming for hours on end, but you weren't awake to do that.

Suddenly, the figure sauntered out from behind the shadows, and your breath caught in your throat. Adrian Toomes. "I-I thought you-"

"Was in prison?" He offered with a sickening smile. He stepped closer to you and you struggled some more, trying to see if you could fight your way out of these damn chains. You knew you wouldn't be able to do that, though, not unless you took off the cuffs. "Oh, I was, but I had a little help from a friend. Told me he could get me out, if I did him a favor."

"And what was that?" Your voice shook with anxiety. Adrian remained quiet, only watching you with an uneasy look in his eyes. His silence was your answer-and it only seemed to set you off even more. "Look, whoever you're doing this favor for, it isn't worth it-trust me, Adrian. You don't know what you're dealing with. This is much bigger than anything you could imagine-"

He cut you off, "I'm not hear for you, little girl."

You tilted your head, confusion seeping into your core. "Then what-"

"You're only the bait to what I really want," He cut you off again, and his menacing grin only seemed to brighten at the shift in your demeanor. " _Who_  I really want."

Once the realization of his insinuation hit you, an icy wave of coldness washed over you, suffusing your body causing you to tremble. It was anything but pleasant; physically and mentally.

"If you touch a single hair on his head, I will-"

He took an almost eager step closer to you. "You'll what? Hate to break it to you, but you can't really do anything with those cuffs around your wrists, Y/N Y/L/N."

For the second time that night, you felt your heart stop. How could he possibly know about that part of you? Then your mind wondered over to the time when Adrian spoke about the man who sent him here in the first place, and your thoughts ran rampant-like a cheetah on crack cocaine.

"Who sent you?" Your voice lowered an octave, dangerous and hinted with destruction.

He was close enough to you to the point that he was knelt down on his knees, in between your position on the chair. You held your breath as he leaned in, that delirious grin making you almost sick to your stomach.

"Just leave him out of this," you pleaded pathetically, feeling tears stinging the back of your eyelids. " _Please_."

He opened his mouth to argue back but a series of gunshots alerted the two of you causing the both of you to turn your attention to the doubled doors where the sounds were coming from.

This was it. You could use this as a distraction to free your hands. So, you whispered those two little words and sighed with relief as your cuffs slipped off of your wrists. It all happened so quick as you felt the familiar surge of power ignite throughout your entire body, then used your power to unchain yourself. As you hopped up from the chair, Adrian turned around then made the mistake in lunging towards you just as the doubled doors swung open and you caught a flash of red and blue. Before Adrian could even reach you, your thrust both of your hands out in front of you, wrapping your kidnapper up in the purplish-black of your power. He was frozen in mid-air, and you could see the evident shock flash through his eyes, surveying you.

"Y/N!"

At the sound of Peter's voice, the dark, crackling energy glitched and you knew you your focus was slipping from hearing the sound of your boyfriend's voice. You winced, but pushed yourself to keep the link-to keep Adrian from hurting you or Peter.

"Peter," you whined, feeling your power leave your control slowly the longer you held on. You knew this was what always happened-you would lose control at the mere mention of a distraction. Peter was your weakness, you were bound to lose total focus with him near, and especially since this was the first time he would be finding out about it. About what you could do.

You let out a scream, and before you could thrust Adrian further away from you, a supernova of intense pain erupted in your abdomen, but then it quickly escalated to every other part of your body. With all your remaining strength, you screamed out. You couldn't hear anything-your eardrums felt like they would explode any minute; your hands flew up to cover your ears, your eyes shut tightly in pain as blasts of sonic waves filled you to the very core.

That was when the fighting broke out and the chaos began.

Peter was desperate-he was completely shell shocked when he burst through the doors to witness your powers that he had no idea about, but there was no time to ask questions. After you had left earlier this morning, Peter went on about his day, but once you hadn't shown up for the rest of the day, he began to grow worried. So he called you; he called and he called until the twentieth time he decided to give up and go on a search for you. It was late, the sky was pitch black outside when he arrived, and you had been missing for hours. When he finally had Karen run a scan on your whereabouts, he rushed to your aid as soon as he could-fear settling deep in his soul and on the verge of tears and he swung from building to building-needing to find you.

He didn't want to lose you-he  _couldn't_  lose you.

As Peter fought off as many of Vulture's men as possible, including the one who had used a sonic wave blaster on you, you called out to him in the amidst of pandemonium, a look of sheer desperation covering your blotchy cheeks as you watched Peter fight his way to you. And he didn't stop until he reached your side; your heart-stopping screams were what fuelled his anger. There was this absolute need to protect you with all of his strength, he wouldn't let anything or anyone harm you-even if you had kept such a humongous secret from him.

But as soon as Peter got even remotely close to you, Vulture-who was now safely in his suit-had rammed himself into the boy and knocked him off his feet.

You lurched forward, instincts kicking in, adrenaline numbing the exhaustion and pain in your body, but just as you even could conjure up your power, about a dozen more of Vulture's men burst through the doubled doors and you froze-all of their weapons were aimed directly at you.

Bullets.

Possibly one of the worse things about being in the middle of the battlefield. You heard the sharp whine of ten or so bullets sail your way, and before you could even think up a plan, you raised your hands and let your fingers dance with trepidation-stopping the bullets in mid air. The colorful and spiking purplish-black of your power swirled around your nimble fingers-your facial muscles twitching with anticipation as you focused all of your strength onto stopping the bullets.

"Am I supposed to be scared of you?" Adrian shouted from within his suit as he stood a few inches away from Peter-who was watching you with an expression you couldn't quite decipher.

You could feel your eyes burning, glowing a dark purple, and you could feel your attention alleviate slowly from keeping the bullets away from you. You pushed your mind, forcing your power to place the bullets in the direction of Adrian and his men. "No," you replied, your voice low and full of panicked precision. "You should be terrified."

It felt as though your mind was cracking and splitting in different directions, and you cried out once, sending the bullets full speed in his direction-airborne.

Peter was quick enough to dodge the onslaught of the bullets as they sailed in the air, and unfortunately, so was Adrian because he had zoomed out of the way just as quickly then wasted no time in lunging for Peter-his main target.

Your blood ran cold as you watched the Vulture grab violently at Peter's neck; your whole body stiffened. You could feel yourself begin to hyperventilate-your whole world was coming to a stop, and this time you weren't able to stop the force of your power. The more you freaked out, the more quicker you began to glow as the dark matter surrounded you-covering you head to toe in the purplish-black energy and seizing any of your control. You knew this would happen.

You should've known that you wouldn't be able to fully understand the lengths of your power-what you could really do. You would never be able to control it, that's why you always wore the cuffs; they were power dampening cuffs designed to momentarily negate your uncontrollable ability. It was unpredictable which made it more difficult to control under pressuring situations like these.

Both the Vulture and Spider-Man's eyes were on you, you knew they were watching you. But your focus was on the power that was consuming you-devouring your whole body-head to toe. Your eyes widened immensely at the deadly matter, the power that you were trying to conceal for years. For you to be standing here and to be near civilian life and to also be in the middle of trying to control what was happening wasn't the best of ideas. In fact, your ability was too powerful and dangerous since you had no full control of it and Dark Matter was what made up most of the physical universe. You had the power to wipe out the whole world if you couldn't control it, and right now, your only concern was not having enough control and possibly injuring Peter and anyone even remotely close to you-or further. You couldn't stand to have such a huge burden if you accidentally lost complete control of your power. It would be too much to handle and you were only a sixteen year old with almost uncontrollable powers. But you knew if you were subconsciously holding back as much as you could then you would have a 50/50 percent chance in being able to not destroy the whole city-and New York was huge.

So as you watched the power start to travel, you began to fear for Peter's life. You grew scared, but you also had to focus really hard on trying to not let it escape any further than how much it was at the moment.

Tears glazed over your irises-they were already alight with the same menacing color of your power, and you could feel the capillaries swimming in your veins, your eyeballs. You were a terrifying sight-covered in the thing that you chose to fight for years.

With barely enough strength to open your mouth, you painfully cried out. "Please," you begged pathetically, cringing when Adrian squeezed his metallic hands around Peter's throat. "Don't-don't hurt him."

"You have no idea how valuable you are, do you?" Adrian whispered out in awe, his guard slipping.

"I don't have complete control over this. You have to let him go or this entire factory will disappear with everyone in it-including me." You had to blink the harsh sting of the tears away, your vision was slipping; bleary and unfocused.

Vulture snickered, "Nah. I'm actually very intrigued. What else can you do?"

"Adrian!" You roared, clenching your fists, the dark matter subconsciously flickering from your spike in anger. You could feel your control slipping from your mind-from your complete reach. "Drop him, now!  _I don't want to hurt you_!"

"Y/N, you need to do something. You know he won't let go." Peter shouted at you over the roar of your growing power. It was almost reaching him, and the matter was close enough for him to see the brightness of the color, he could very well see destruction, and he was terrified.

Immediately, you shook your head, "I don't have control, Peter. I might kill you!"

It was difficult not to notice the dead bodies that littered the floor-all the weapons, and blood; the air was thick with the stench of copper and gunpowder. You could feel a tremble resonate within you, causing your power to slip for a fraction of a second before you regained somewhat little control over it again.

"You won't kill me, Y/N. I know you won't." He reassured, his hands grabbing at Adrian's tightening fingers around his neck. "Just do it!"

"She's too afraid of her powers, Parker. She won't do it." His attention flickered over to you, his face plate flipping up and exposing his face. "Will you, Y/N?"

Peter was starting to turn blue, you could see the life being drained out of him and you were at a loss. You knew that if you used your power, you could very well injure--if not kill-Peter and you would kill yourself before you even thought about hurting him.

You could feel your heart frantically beating roughly against your ribcage, as if it was begging you not to do it. You knew your heart was always telling you things, making you feel things, making you second guess everything you ever thought about, but you couldn't risk the Vulture being the reason why you weren't able to save the person who made you feel most alive. You were nothing without Peter.

"Peter, I don't...I can't-I don't want to hurt you...please. Please don't make me do this." You kept repeating this in a whispered mantra, hoping there was another way, hoping Peter would be able to fight Vulture off of himself.

Peter cringed, "You can do this."

When your eyes took in his weakening figure and how it was eversoslightly dangling in Vulture's arms, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, something ignited within you. You growled, your lips curling and your eyes narrowed into slits.

You curled your fist, the dark matter twirling around your fingers while you hurled a string of the dark energy his way. You watched with wide hopeless eyes as your power cut through mid-air, then sucked in a huge breath of air as you directed it just above Peter's head, hitting Adrian right in the face and knocking him to the floor. Peter slumped to the floor, coughing his lungs out with both hands planted firmly on the pavement.

Adrian grunted, but the armor from his beloved suit had deflected most of the hit and he began to retaliate. His face plate slammed shut and he powered up the weapons on his suit, aiming your way. Instinctively, you threw up a purplish-black barrier and the blasts bounced off the field with a hiss. "Adrian, please!" You grunted out once again for what felt like the tenth time that night, and forced your arms back before pushing the dark matter out with a weakened cry. "Stop this or I will take you down where you stand!"

He let out a laugh, his ego getting in the way of his focus. As he opened his mouth to say something, Peter lunged, taking him down-they both stumbled to the floor in a heap of punches and blasts of webbing coming from Peter's gauntlets.

While they fought, you frantically searched for your cuffs and heaved a sigh once your eyes landed on them. You dropped to your knees, letting your power follow your movements, and crawled army-style over to the devices that would make your power momentarily. You knew you wouldn't be able to help Peter without your power, but you sure as hell were going to try.

Freedom came at a price and you were defeated, broken, shattered beyond repair. If you killed yourself in order to save Peter, then so be it. You were way past rescuing anyways.

Once you reached both pairs of the cuffs, you slipped them on and watched with a relieved yet somehow still tense expression as your power regressed back into you with finality. Still on your hands and knees, you hastily grabbed at a crowbar next to you, and hopped back onto both of your feet. "Adrian, hey over here!" The fighting stopped and you grinned somewhat mischievously as his attention turned to you.

Peter didn't have a moment to properly stop you before you had pushed him out of the way and lunged at Adrian, taking him down with a swift hit to his head. Adrian retaliated, his hands going for your cuffs, but you swung at him again and this time you hit him hard enough for the face plate to tear off.

You were met with wide eyes of your target, and you could feel yourself gaining the upper-hand when you dodged Adrian's attacks. You aimed at his face, but Adrian was quick and his movements were agile as his hands wrapped around the crowbar, gripping then shoving you back roughly to where your back came into contact with the pavement. A loud cry escaped past your lips as your head was bashed against the hard surface with an audible  _thump_.

Before you could heave yourself up, Peter had already taken him down. Black spots danced around your vision, and you felt yourself caving-succumbing to the dark abyss when your eyes fluttered shut. You were too weak to keep your eyes open, even when Peter screamed your name while sprinting to your side.

The next time you opened your eyes, you were in an ambulance. The blare of the sirens clogging your senses while you tried to focus on the things happening around you. There was a paramedic to your right, he was trying to fixate the oxygen mask over your head, but your hand came up to block it. The paramedic shushed you, but you refused to be quiet-you needed Peter.

"Peter..." You weakly lifted your hand, searching for any sign of him.

Seconds later, your hand was intertwined with your own, cold and bare. "What the hell were you thinking, Y/N?" He leaned forward, and that's when he came into focus. His forehead touched yours softly, and his eyes were glossed over with unshed tears as his eyes found your slightly unfocused ones. You noticed he was in regular clothing now; his red and blue suit nowhere to be seen with your lazy vision. "Why did you do that? You were so reckless...you jumped into the line of fire without a second's hesitation-to save my life. Why?"

"Are you angry with me?" You choked, feeling your throat tighten.

Peter sighed, pulling away. " **I'm not angry at you. I never could be. I'm angry that your life has been on the line so many times that you've been hurt so much and I'm angry that you had to go through it alone**."

You stayed quiet, and the only thing that could be heard was your pounding heart and the annoying blare of the sirens.

"Why didn't you tell me about your powers?" He whispered that part, his head dipping only slightly so no one else could hear his words.

"I was trying to protect you, Pete." You whispered back. "You saw what I was capable of...I don't want to lose control and have you get caught in the crossfire. If you die...I die."

Right then, it became clear to Peter. He was never your protector-you were his.


	18. and i will love you pt II

Falling in love with Peter was one of your greatest victories in life, but it was also your biggest downfall. Sometimes the idea of it all scared you half to death-you hated the feeling you would get whenever you were around him. You were a blushing mess even when someone mentioned his name, and they didn't even have to be talking to you about him directly. You were just so immensely and astronomically in love with the boy that he was all you ever thought about anymore-you hated it. Foreign feelings were terrifying, especially how you felt around your best friend. There was this sensation of your heart soaring-flying high into cloud9 when you so much as even felt his name on the tip of your tongue.

You knew today would be a little awkward; going over to Peter's house without Ned there to be the necessary distraction for you so your attention wouldn't be completely and unwavering from Peter. You were going to be a stuttering mess since it would just be the two of you and alone in his room.

As you walked through the doors of Peter's place-he held the door open for you-you instantly smelt something cooking. A smile graced your lips, and your insides instinctively warmed up at the welcoming feeling.

"Oh, May!" You sang dramatically, walking into the kitchen to come face to face with the beautiful brunette. "You're favorite is here."

Peter rolled his eyes, but you couldn't see it. And Aunt May embraced with you like the gesture was second nature. Her smile was so wide that you could see just how white her teeth were, just how perfectly straight they were.

"Y/N, it's been too long!" She pulled back, smiling wider. "Where have you been? How's your parents?"

You shrugged off your backpack, but before you could set it down, Peter came up to you and took it from you and then walked down the hallway to his room carrying both yours and his backpacks. Turning back to the woman in front of you, you laughed light-heartedly, giving her a small shrug. "You know how busy school can get. Oh, and the parents are great. Dad is back to working on the rig and mom is, well, you know how mom is."

She gave you a sympathetic smile, nodding her head. Turning her attention back over to the stove, she began to stir something in the pot. You walked over to her, leaned your head on her shoulder and smiled contently. Peter's family was your second family-they always have been, even after Uncle Ben died. Especially then because you became just that much more important to there small family of two. You became the missing piece. Aunt May was like another mom to you, and sometimes she played the part a little too well. She was more of a mom than yours ever was since you mother was always getting herself into trouble and ending up in rehab. Your dad was the father  _and_  the mother.

"Oh, my...May, are you making meatloaf?" You could smell it even if she wasn't working on that at the moment-you knew it was in the oven below you.

She nodded eagerly, humming enthusiastically. "Yup! You gonna stay for dinner?"

You froze. Now, no matter how much you loved May, you couldn't stand her meatloaf. It was the equivalent to all the things you hated putting in your mouth-like squash or mayonnaise. And you absolutely hated lying to her.

"Oh, err-I don't-"

"She's only staying for a couple of hours, right, Y/N?" You jumped slightly at the sound of Peter's voice. He gave you a reassuring nod, knowing your slight distaste for it, and you internally sighed in relief. You nodded, your lips pursed into a thin line and your eyes twinkling with unshed amusement. "She's gotta be home for dinner tonight. She promised her dad that she would be home for that."

Aunt May gave you a hesitant look, but sighed and nodded her head with finality. "Okay, maybe next time? I'll make baked mac n cheese, your favorite."

This time your eyes lit up, and you nodded with excitement. "Y-yes please."

"Alright, you two," she laughed and gave you a subtle wink. "Go study-but not too hard."

You knew she was hinting at something once she put emphasis on her words. You blushed, stuffing your hands into your back pockets before turning around and following a sputtering Peter to his room.

"Thanks for that save, Pete." You said and walked over to sit on his bed where he had laid your backpack. You shuffled through it, finding your particular book and fishing it out.

"No problem," he laughed softly, his eyes following your every movement. He walked over to his desk and sat down on his chair, his eyes still lingering on you.

It went silent. You looked up then blushed. "What?"

Peter opened his mouth, obviously wanting to say something, but before he could even get a single word out, a loud hissing and crackling noise could be heard echoing quietly in his room. The two of you turned your heads towards the radio scanner, which was on the top shelf of Peter's closet.

Your eyes widened slightly while Peter got up and took it down from its high spot. "I can't believe you still have that." You whispered, your eyes glazing over with unshed tears as you walked over to stand next to him. You let your hand brush against his briefly before you reached a hand up to the radio scanner.

The piece of technology brought older and easier times to your head, your lips softening as you traced your fingers on it. You could feel Peter's eyes on you as you let your fingers dance appreciatively over the rough exterior, and you let your mind go haywire-letting the memories flood your senses. The day you were gifted with this piece of nostalgic-emitting technology, you had shared it with Peter; the two of you were eight years old, so innocent of the horrors around you. On Peter's eleventh birthday, you had gifted him with the radio scanner with a teary eyed smile and a wobbly stance. He knew how hard it was for you to give something so delicate away and especially to him. Images of you and Peter as your younger selves flashed across your mind like a slideshow, and you sniffled quietly, turning your head to stare at your best friend who was already staring at you with wide, doe eyes.

"You kept it?"

He nodded and turned his head towards it, turning the volume knob down a little. "Yeah, it-it uh, it reminds me of better days...I guess."

"Me too." You whispered, your eyes glued to the side of his face as his attention was elsewhere. You took this time of serenity to take in his raw beauty; the way his jaw clenched softly, the twinkle of nostalgia in those brown irises of his. This particular face was the equivalent of a lovesick puppy.

Could you be anymore obvious?

You turned away just as Peter turned his attention back to you, but you stared back down at the radio unbeknownst to you that his eyes lingered on your face. He was taking you in-every inch of your face-even the tears that slid steadily down your freckled cheekbones.

But the moment was ruined as soon as he remembered the reason the scanner went off in the first place.

You turned to the sound of a heaved sigh and the image of sagged shoulders. With furrowed brows, you stepped back, knowing that you might've been overstepping your boundaries by being that close to him. "Everything okay?" You questioned, hesitance seeping into your voice.

He nodded then walked over to his closet, placing the radio scanner back on the top shelf. He stepped away and pulled off his blue hoodie, revealing his Spider-Man suit. The familiar red and blue colors were shinning bright in your eyes, reflecting a sense of hope into your soul and a pang of nervousness in your bones.

Instinctively, you stepped forward with your hand out as if you wanted to stop him from going out into the horrors of your world. You were always so over-protective of him and it seemed to intensify once you found out about his secret. You found out just as Ned did; you and Ned had made yourselves comfortable on Peter's bed as you waited for him to return from the Stark Internship. Little did you two know, the internship wasn't what he was doing every night.

You cringed, "Peter, where are you going?"

You didn't want him to get hurt, and plus, didn't he say that he would help you study?

He stopped by his window, his mask in his hand and his eyes trained on you almost sympathetically. He sighed, breathing out through his nose. "I'll be back, okay? I promise." He moved to put his mask on, but you spoke again, your tone defeated and pleading.

"But what about my homework?"

"I won't be long, you know this. I promise I will help you with it when I get back, okay?"

"You always say that."

"Say what?" He breathed out, his tone shifting to exhaustion. The two of you almost always argued over this whenever he needed to go out and be Spider-Man, but that was because he was either in the middle of doing something with you and Ned, or he had promised he would be back in time to finish the day with you-he never did. They were always false promises.

You scoffed, taking a defensive stance. "That you won't be long," you had whispered it out, your eyes never wavering from his. Irritation was seeping into your core, and you were beginning to feel like maybe this particular argument isn't necessary. Although, you couldn't help but feel that this was all Peter was anymore; he was always going out and being his alter-ego, and you were too busy falling in love with the boy who never even thought to give you a second glance. You didn't feel like that was fair.

Then again life was never fair.

Your hardened exterior vanished and you worried your bottom lip between your teeth. Peter hadn't missed the way you eyes traversed his frame, lingering at his jaw, his lips, and finally his face. Concern was replaced by the irritation. You were switching moods like someone who had mental problems.

He breathed in heavily, turning only slightly to lean his forehead on the window frame, his shoulders sagging even more than when they had earlier. He closed his eyes, and breathed in once more before turning to you. "Just will you please cover for me while I'm gone? I don't want Aunt May to freak out when she sees that I'm not in here."

"Yeah, I know the drill," you snapped, hating how harsh your voice came out. He sighed with relief, but cringed at your tone. Slipping his mask on, he began to climb out the window, but you spoke up once more, stopping him in his tracks again. "But I'm leaving when you get back."

He pulled his body back inside, "What? Why?" His voice raised an octave, and you could tell that you had shocked him.

"Because I'm done waiting around for you, Pete." You whispered, your voice hoarse, your palms sweaty as they shook with uncertainty. "I can't-I don't-it's just too much, okay? I can't stand the thought of you coming back on the verge of death because I wouldn't be able to handle that, I just wouldn't, okay? It's too much. It's all too much." You began to hyperventilate as you paced anxiously on his bedroom floor, feeling his eyes focused on your every move, watching you with trepidation. "I'm so stupid-why did I have to-why did I have to-I shouldn't have fallen in love with you. Jeezus, I'm so stupid-"

"What did you just say?"

You stopped pacing in the middle of the floor, the temperature in the room growing thick.

He knows now, there was no going back.

Turning your wide eyes over to your best friend, who had slowly slipped off his mask with trembling hands. He was looking at you with that damn disheartened puppy dog look, the one where he would pout only slightly-and he usually never really knew when he was doing it.

"I-" You sucked in a painful breath, your eyes squeezing tight at the realization that you had just confessed that you were in love with your best friend.

"Say it," he whispered lowly and breathlessly, taking a few steps closer to you. You took one step back. "Please."

"I'm in love with you, Peter. Completely and undoubtedly." You rushed out, cringing right after because you knew that he wouldn't feel the same way. And when you locked eyes with him once more, you witnessed the absolute despair in his eyes, the hesitance, the uncertainty. Your heart dropped down to your stomach when your worst fears were confirmed.

He stayed silent. His eyes unwavering from you, and his movements moot.

"And you don't feel the same...way." You backpedalled, your feet hitting the door of his room then your back soon after. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you awkwardly intertwined your fingers together and avoided his eyes. He still hadn't said anything, but you figured he was just trying to process what you had just told him. "I knew this would happen..." You let out a breathy laugh, fresh tears pooling in your eyes.

Finally, he took wobbly and unsteady steps towards you and all of a sudden, his larger and gloved hand had wrapped around your tiny one and you felt your heart take off at a dead run. He reached out and pulled your hand away from your mouth. You hadn't even realized you were biting at your nails.

You followed the sight of his hand around your own, then sucked in a huge breath of air once he wrapped both hands around your hand before pressing an almost feather-light kiss on your palm.

Questioning eyes met his, but you had to force yourself to breathe this time. Right now all you had to do was just breathe.

Breathe, Y/N.

 _Breathe_.

He clenched his jaw, in hopes to suppress the overflow of emotions that were threatening to spill over. "How could you possibly know how I feel?" His voice was soft, no signs of abhor or discouragement, but in that softness was a trace of incredulity, like he was shocked beyond words of your accusation.

You melted in his fingertips, completely and vulnerably. It became difficult to do or say anything. 

"I-" You tried to get out, but instead of words falling from your lips your shock dissipated. You scowled up at him indignantly as the oncoming of fresh tears brimmed in your eyes. " _Say something_." You sniffled constantly in the past minute as if you were resisting the urge to let even more unnecessary tears escape.

Without giving you much time to think about it, Peter backed you up against his bedroom door, blindly pressing his forehead to yours. Your eyes went cross-eyed as looked up at him. His eyes were closed, so like all the other time you scanned his face with confusion.

" **What I feel for you terrifies me**." He whispered it out, barely audible, but just loud enough for you to hear. You remained quiet, silently observing his facial structures as he regained the strength to open his eyes. "I love you, Y/N-trust me, I  _really_  do. I've never cared about anyone the way I care about you, and it  _terrifies_  me."

Slowly, you let both of your hands slide up his biceps, feeling his muscles tense. He breathed out heavily as if he was trying to keep himself steady. He gulped as you looked up at him through long lashes.

"What are you afraid of, Parker?"

"Losing you."

You sucked in a breath of air, your insides growing fuzzy. He had no idea how he made you feel-he really didn't have a damn clue just how much you loved him. Maybe he did, but you knew it could never be estimated. You didn't know how to describe this feeling, but you couldn't stop trembling. You were breathless and weak. This wasn't how you pictured it-but you didn't mind getting to know this madness, this chaos in your chest. During those quiet moments when you thought you were falling too hard-too fast, you had to force yourself to look away before you became overwhelmed by the infinite depths stretching behind his eyes. Not this time, though. You could stare and stare and never get bored.

"Kiss me." You whispered, gently gripping his biceps and internally swooning at the feel of his muscles under your fingertips.

"What?"

"Kiss me," you repeated, whining slightly and parting your lips. You brought your hand up and traced his lip lightly with the tip of your finger and it pouted slightly. You wanted him to initiate the kiss-you were waiting for that moment when his lips crashed against your own. "Please."

Peter nodded, bringing one of his hands up to cup your chin tenderly while the other touched the side of your face, brushing your cheek softly. Slowly, your eyes slammed shut when his lips were on yours you wanted to squeal. It was a clumsy kiss-neither of you quite knew how to do it properly. You'd read the stories, seen the films and tried to copy, but the films didn't make every nerve ending in your body tingle and your hands shake as he continued to brush his thumb across your cheek with shaky movements. This was scarier from the films.

A laughed huffed the space between your lips as he pulled back. Although, your lips had blindly followed his, only opening them when he pressed a sweet kiss to your nose.

He had you reaching for more-you had been starved of affection although never really receiving it like this before. One touch from him planted a fire in your heart and brought peace to your mind.

You opened your eyes slowly, breathing out in content. You let your fingers trace your lips, where his had just been.

"You should go..." You whispered out, still in a daze, but quickly continuing at the sudden flash of hurt and shock in his eyes at your words. You reached down to grab his mask, then you slipped it over his face. You wrapped your hands on either side of his cheeks, touching your forehead to his and sighing. "Go be a hero, Peter."

"Don't go anywhere." He pleaded, his voice coming out small.

"I'm not going anywhere, Spider-Man."


	19. another head hangs lowly

Gasping. Gagging. Heaving breaths, hands grasping for something to cling to.

You couldn't breathe. You needed to breathe.

After hearing the news, you were certain that you could feel every cell in your body grow weak. There were no tears at first, you were too deep into your shock to even cry. This was usually how your mourning process began. Your hands were shaking, trembling to the point where it looked like you had hypothermia—but it was just the shock. You were breaking, deflating—falling. Everything was everywhere. You had trashed your room, probably in seconds. You remembered falling to the floor, and you were rocking back and forth with your knees pulled up to your chest. Still, there were no tears.

Your grandfather had lost his battle with Leukemia. And you had lost your best friend.

You stopped rocking back and forth slowly, then as if you were too weak to even move, you leaned back on the wall behind you. Memories of you in your younger years flashed quickly and numbly through your head, your grandfather's laugh, his smile, his comfort, the way he called you his princess. He had stood up for you when you were bullied—when you felt like you were an outsider. You can remember the day you found out about his cancer, and you were so young you couldn't understand what it was at the time, you couldn't possibly know how your grandfather felt when he went through all the chemo, all the doctor appointments. You were told that he was a fighter—he would fight through this and he would win. They were all wrong. Of course, he was a fighter, he was strong, that was one of the things you admired about him, but they were wrong when they told you he would make it out alive.

Anger consumed your senses, and that was when the tears finally came. They were silent tears, but you were certain that the loud crying would be soon. You weren't ready to lose all sense of reality. You didn't want your heart to break any further than it already had. You wanted to keep it all in, and you tried—you really did, but as soon as the first tears escaped it was like a waterfall. A great tremor overtook your small frame, no matter how hard you tried to keep it in, and you leaned forward, planting your palms on the floor below you. You cried to the point where you could no longer control your breathing, and choked on the air you tried so desperately to ingest, like a child trying to hold back tears.

You cried until you couldn't feel a damn thing.

You cried and cried and you even cried yourself to sleep that night. Your parents could hear you, of course they could, and they understood your pain. They knew how close you and your grandfather were, but they didn't know how to comfort you—you were a stubborn girl they learned. And they also knew that you would want to mourn on your own. You were just that type of person.

When you woke up the next morning, you felt numb to the point where you didn't even blink away the tiredness in your eyes, or yawn, or stretch. You merely pulled the blankets back from your body and got dressed for school. You didn't feel a thing, just the dull thumping of your broken heart and a ringing in your ears. Everything else was numb—void of everything around you. Mind, hands, feet, emotions...that was it. You were just functioning without a real purpose, not really reacting to anything around you. Everything was set on auto-pilot.

Your parents didn't say anything about the news from yesterday when you walked into the kitchen, wearing baggy clothing and your hair messily put into a bun. All they did was tell you good morning and gave you sympathetic smiles. And you almost broke again for the second time that week when they hugged you goodbye before you left your home for school.

When you got to school, you were already dreading the day ahead. Your parents insisted that you should stay home, but you really didn't want to mess up your perfect attendance. So, you dragged your feet to the subway and walked through the doors of Midtown High. Almost instantly, you hugged your hands to your chest right after pulling your hood off. The students were watching you as you passed by to reach to your locker, but you couldn't even care to give them a second glance. No one even knew what you were going through, but they all seemed to be looking at you with sympathy. You didn't want their sympathy. You wanted to mourn in your own ways, on your own time. You wanted to be left alone.

Which wasn't all true. You knew that if there was one person that could break a tiny piece of your steel wall that you put up, it would be Peter Parker, your best friend of three years. But then again, you really didn't want sympathy, even if it'd be from someone as close as Peter.

But Peter knew you too well. As soon as he walked into the building, with Ned right beside him, his focus drifted over to your locker where his eyes landed on you. A smile graced his lips almost immediately, but it dropped once he took in the sight of you, his eyes growing sad. Your pristine pink converse stayed planted on the floor, your oversized hoodie was uneven and hanging off your shoulder. Little strands of your hair had fallen out of your bun that was messily put together. From where he stood, he noticed your skin was pallid, your ashen exterior proving that you hadn't seen the sunlight in days. You looked absolutely and mentally exhausted—Peter could sense your grief, oddly enough. It was like he knew something was wrong.

"What's wrong with Y/N?" Ned asked after following Peter's gaze, and also noticing how terrible you looked.

Peter merely shrugged, his lips parting but not knowing how to explain it. He didn't move even as he watched your retreating figure grow farther away from him. "I don't know."

"Maybe she's just having a bad day?"

"Maybe..."

And that was how it went, for the rest of the day. Whenever Peter caught sight of you, whether it'd be during any of the class the two of you shared together, or just roaming the halls, he would try to catch your attention, but every time he neared you, you were already walking away again. You weren't doing it intentionally, you didn't even have a clue that Peter was trying to get your attention. Your mind was stoic, you had shut down. You couldn't really pay attention to anything or anyone, and people seemed to leave you be for the most part. Except for when Flash came up to you to ask if you were alright, SHOCKINGLY, cause let's be honest Flash wasn't really a caring person when it came to people he hardly knew. You didn't even have the audacity to shrug off his concern, you simply gave him a slow nod as if it were second nature to be okay—all the time. But it wasn't.

When it neared lunch, you decided to skip out. Although, you didn't decided—you couldn't decided because your brain wasn't even making coherent thoughts. Fatigue was something you didn't like to broadcast—especially since you were showing obvious signs. Like blinking frequently, again and again, fighting to keep your eyes open as your vision slightly blurred. Desperately, you would claw at your cheek in a lame attempt to keep your poor eyes open.

When you didn't show up to lunch, Peter and Ned really started to worry. You never skipped lunch. You always sat with them and you always laughed and smiled and made jokes. Today wasn't one of those days. You weren't yourself. Peter even caught you falling asleep in class—it was unlike you.

"Do you think she went home early, maybe?" Ned questioned, picking at his food on the lunch tray in front of him, his mind elsewhere as the attention of your absence was brought up.

Peter shook his head, pulling at his hair as terrible scenarios flashed across his mind. Every once in awhile a tremor would rush through him because his mind always wandered to the darkest of places when he worried about you. When you were acting the way you were. But this was the first time you've ever acted this way—around him anyway.

And it was really starting to scare him. He didn't like feeling scared—especially when it came to you.

"I'm gonna go look for her," Peter replied hastily, getting up from his spot next to Ned and grabbing his lunch tray and dumping it before walking out of the cafeteria. Ned didn't even protest. There was no need for him to—he knew that if there was anyone you'd want to see and talk to it would be Peter.

Peter searched through your classes, the ones he knew by heart first. Then he searched the halls that he hadn't been down yet, and once he turned down the hall that was closest to the doubled doors that led to the outside of school, his eyes locked right on your hunched over figure that was sitting on the ground next to your locker. He let out a relieved sigh, his shoulders dropping and his fretful heart thumping softly after calming down.

"Y/N." Your name was a whisper on his lips.

From your hunched over position next to your locker, you could hear light foosteps closing in on you. You looked up, peaking over your kneecaps as you leaned your forearms there, and locked eyes with Peter. Your breath hitched. This was what you were fearing all day. You didn't want to bother Peter with your silent cries and pleas, but there he was walking towards you. You stared straight at him, slowly advertising every movement as he walked carefully over to you. Your eyes stayed locked up on him as he lowered himself on the floor next to you, shoulders not quite touching.

You hadn't shed any tears yet, not since last night, but with Peter's presence it was going to be a bit difficult to keep your emotions at bay. It was because Peter had that natural aura—that kind-hearted aura that instantly made you feel safe enough to let it all out. It didn't matter what it was. You were thankful for it, except this time you didn't want to let it out. You weren't sure if you could control yourself if you did.

"Peter,  _please_. I need—I need—some time to— _god damnit_ ," You could feel the bile rising in your throat, but you forced yourself to swallow around it. The anxiety was also threatening to make an entrance, and this caused you to press your palm against your chest, your head lolling back onto the locker behind you. Your eyes closed tightly, your chest contricting, your walls closing in on you.

Breathe, Y/N.

You need to breathe.

In and out. Breathe.

Peter's hand wrapped around your free hand, grasping it close to his chest so you could feel the calm  _lub_ - _dub_  of his beautiful heartbeat. His eyes were breaking to show just how confused and afraid of your sudden pain he was; the tears were threatening to spill over, but he kept his emotions on lockdown for the sake of your anxiety. He knew how bad it could get.

"Breathe, sweetheart."

You took a deep breath, your heart refusing to calm down as quickly as you wanted it to. Another breath, then another, but the pain was too much—it was all too much.

"I can't—I—Peter, I can't... breathe." The tears spilled over, opening the flood gates of your bottled up emotions. Your bottled up pain. No one was made to be able to hide such hurt, to be able to hold in that much despair. Not even the strongest people were made that way. Your voice had came out thin and distant. You were breathing all wrong, beginning to gasp like there wasn't enough oxygen in the air.

Your back was off the locker now, your hand torn away from Peter's, now planted firmly on the floor. Peter had quickly sprung into action—his movements quick and agile as he caught you from falling over.

"Breath—you need to breathe. Please—you're scaring me. Breathe." He kept repeating the words, as he held onto you while you tried to get as much oxygen into your lungs.

"Okay, okay, okay," you choked out with a sob. He had pulled you into his chest, as you were now both on your knees, chest pressed frantically together. You could feel Peter's heart thumping wildly now, and he would jerk a few times before clutching you closer to his chest.

Breathe, Y/N.

Breathe.

You pressed your face into his shoulder, breathing him in while trying to properly get yourself to calm down. To breathe.

Once Peter could feel your breaths even out, he pressed his lips to the crown of your head before leaning his cheek on the top of it. "We don't have to talk about it," he managed finally, his voice uneven and shaking. You hadn't moved from your position, but your arms were pressed tightly against your own chest, keeping them from holding onto Peter. You were afraid you might squeeze him too hard. "But I need you to not push me away, alright? Let me be here for you."

You urged yourself to pull away from his grasp, avoiding his eyes and sitting back down on your behind with your back pressed to the lockers. Peter slowly sat back down beside you again, this time his shoulder pressed close to your own and his trembling hand planted on top of your that rested on your leg. Instinctively, you began to rub your thumb across his hand, tears now steadily falling down your cheeks.

You were going to open up to him—again. Like you always had before.

And you knew he was going to be there for you.

"My grandfather passed away yesterday," you murmured, sniffling right after and keeping your eyes focused on the tiled floor ahead of you. "He—err—before he passed he..." your throat tightened up, but Peter was there urging you on softly. "He asked to see me. He was on his deathbed when I walked in— _god_  he looked so terrible—so heartbroken. But it was nothing compared to how I felt, Peter. I have never felt so broken in my entire life, but I understand it now. I undrstand how you felt when you lost Uncle Ben. I understand it."

Tears fell more quickly down your cheekbones, your free hand reaching up to wipe them away. You could still feel Peter's eyes on you, almost willing you to look at him, begging and pleading.

"It was hard, and yeah, I also understand how you feel," Peter finally spoke up, his voice cracking slightly as you finally looked over at him. He felt your pain, you knew he always felt it, and he experienced twice as much as you did when it happened. Peter had heightened emotions, you knew this from him being Spider-Man, and that was why you couldn't stand to be so upset in front of him. But there were also the advantages of this because when you were happy, he became delriously happy, twice as content as you were because that's what you did to him. And you'd rather see nothing at all if you couldn't see him happy.

Little did you know, he felt the same.

Peter hated seeing you so broken—it was a rarity among the shared emotions you two had. He would ruin himself to fix you.

"But you can't let this tear you apart—not like it did to me. You wanna know why?"

You looked up at him through long lashes that were collecting some of your tears, you blinked then nodded.

"Because losing you isn't something I can handle." He paused, taking a deep breath. "God knows I can handle a lot of things, and I can. I've seen the impossible—even done the impossible. But truth is," he brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to your palm. You instantly felt warmth there and it slowly traveled to evey inch of your body. "You keep me anchored, and I know that sounds completely crazy and you're probably very confused, but I promise I will tell you everything—one day. Because you deserve that and more."

You stayed quiet, not knowing how to approach this, but also very confused from his words.

Tilting your head, you let your teary eyes scan his face with fraility. Instead of asking the question you were afraid to hear the answer to, you nodded softly and whispered out a small, "Okay."

He nodded, giving you a soft smile. The ones that made you smile, and you did. Smile, that is. But there was a distance in your eyes that not even he could make disappear. It would take some time.

But Peter would be there for you every step of the way.

"Can I ask you something...?" You hesitated, turning to look away from him and back down at your hands. His was still entangled around yours, and you could still feel the warmth radiating off of him in waves—calming waves. He squeezed your hand as his answer, and you continued, taking a deep breath. "Can you—err—can you come to the funeral with me? I don't think I'd be able to make it through without you..."

Peter nodded almost instantly, his eyes lighting up at your openess. You hardly ever opened up to him like this, and he was loving every minute of it. "Of course." He had whispered it eversoquietly, promising vehemently. "You won't be alone in this, Y/N. I promise."

He had kept his promise.

The next morning, the steady thrum of a heartbeat dragged you out of the momentary darkness, pulling you back towards the light. Your cheek was pressed to Peter's clothed chest, his breaths even and reassuring.

He had stayed over with you that night, and although your parents didn't like the idea of you two sleeping in the same bed together, they knew that Peter wouldn't try anything. There was the fact that he was your best friend and nothing more and the more frightening fact that your father had scared him shitless—enough for Peter not to try anything.

You didn't move a muscle as Peter subconsciously laced his fingers through your own tiny ones, clutching your hand to his chest. Even as you slept, the two of you were so drawn together, not wanting to spend a single minute apart.

Two hours later there you were, standing in front of your full body mirror. Your hands nervously patted down your knee length black laced and short sleeved dress. Thankfully, you had your room to yourself until Peter came back from his apartment which was right next to yours. He was there getting ready for the funeral, Aunt May was most likely getting ready too since you made the last minute decision to invite her as well. Your parents were close with Peter and his aunt—it was only fair to bring May. Plus, she was so caring and kind. You couldn't not invite her.

Your eyes flickered over to the corner of the mirror where you saw your mother's reflection standing by your open door. Her head was placed firmly on the doorframe with a sad smile on her face, watching you silently. "Hey, bug. You alright?"

"Yeah." It was a hesitant nod, but a reasonable reply.

Her smile faltered a fraction, "You don't have to be brave all the time, sweetie. It's okay to break once in awhile."

"I know," you nodded, your bottom lip beginning to tremble. She walked over to you and hugged you around the shoulders, swiftly pressing a chaste motherly kiss to the crown of your head. You leaned into her embrace, accepting her comfort. "It's hurts, mom."

She rubbed your shoulders, "I know. I know, honey."

You pursed your lips, pushing back the onslaught of tears as your mother gave you a reassuring smile and pulling away. "I'm gonna go see if your dad's ready," she rolled her eyes, and you had the urge to giggle. "It's like he's the woman in the relationship. Watch, I bet you he's doing his hair."

That time you did giggle, and your mother smiled brigthly at that. "I love you," she kissed her thumb then pressed it to your chin. She had done that since the day you were born, it was her way of showing her affection towards you.

"I love you too, mom."

You turned back to the mirror, admiring your dress before your attention was pulled back to your mother.

"Oh, hey, Pete." She gave his shoulders a pat then threw a secretive wink at you over her shoulder before walking down the hall.

His focus was on you as he spoke to your mother, his eyes glazed and trained on you, his expression softening at the sight of you. "Yeah...hey, Mrs Y/L/N..." You could hear your mother snickering as she walked away.

Peter stood there in your doorway, wearing a well tailored and crisp looking suit. Your smile faltered slightly at how handsome he looked with his hair slicked back and his twinkling eyes that were unwavering from you.

"You look handsome, Pete." You complimented, giving him a small smile before turning back to your mirror. You reached over to your dresser and wrapped your fraile fingers around the pink bow string that you needed to put in your hair.

Briefly your eyes flickered over to your best friend, his mouth open but no words coming out. You wanted to snicker at the doe-eyed look he was giving you, but you only drew your attention back to your task at hand. But the string was being uncooperative with you, and it would always slip from your shaking fingers as you managed to get it under your hair and around. You let out a frustrated groan and huffed.

"You're shaking," Peter observed with worried brown eyes. "Here." He walked over to you with a slight nervous smile on his face. His hands reached up to grab the string, but you dodged him.

"I can do it," you huffed again and tried once more, but to no avail.

"Why do you never let me help you?" There was an undertone of a whine in his voice, and eventually you gave in, sighing in defeat.

"Okay, fine." You nodded. You handed him the string, your hands brushing against each other. You turned back to the mirror and watched patiently as Peter picked up your hair, slipping the bow strinng underneath it before wrapping your thick hair into a losse ponytail. He was so focused on doing your hair, that he didn't notice you watching him with adoration. His hands were gentle as he handled your hair and when he was done, he stepped back to admire his work.

Your heart fluttered. Your palms grew sweaty.

"Where did you learn to do that?" You asked.

His eyes flickered down to your reflection in the mirror, you not having turned around yet. "Aunt May," he replied, his cheeks tinting pink. "She needed someone to braid her hair sometimes, so she would ask me."

"Thank you," you said, finally turning around and immediately encircling your arms around his torso. "So much."

He heard you even though your face was buried into his chest, he heard you and it made his heart lurch. He wanted to swoon at the feel of your arms around him, and how you didn't squeeze him too hard, but just gentle enough to know that you were a fragile thing.

He squeezed you back, putting his all into the embrace like he always had. His cheek leaned thoughtfully on the top of your head, contemplating on what he should say next. After a quiet moment, he finally opened his mouth, speaking to you in a soft and comforting whisper. " **I can hear you crying, you know. At night, when you think no one is listening**." Maybe that wasn't the way to go, but he figured he needed you to know that he could hear you at night, when his wall was right next to yours. He could hear you softly crying whenever you were sad, whenever you weren't having a good night.

You stiffened and pulled back, craning your neck to look up at him with saddening eyes. Still, you said nothing and kept quiet, not being comfortable enough to divulge in this topic.

"You were crying last night, too." He added, his voice growing thick with emotion.

"I thought you were sleeping," you finally spoke up, stepping away from him and walking over to sit on your bed so you could slip on your black flats.

He followed you, trying to blink back the tears that threatened to flow down his already splotchy cheeks. Sitting down next to you, he grabbed your hand after you slipped on the remaining flat. You closed your eyes, not wanting to look at him, not wanting to show him just how weak you really were.

"I was. I heard your cries and woke up, but didn't say anything. I let you cry because it's okay to cry, you know. You can cry and still be strong—still be who you are. Everybody has their breaking point, Y/N."

Your hand was frailty and caution, shaking gently as Peter enclosed his around yours, fitting in the palm of his hand like it was meant to be held by him and only him. He pulled you into a heartbreaking hug; it was so intense that it gave you chills.

This time you didn't cry, there was no need for tears at that moment. All you wanted to do was be held by your best friend. You enjoyed his company and you cherished every second you spent with him, and Ned of course. Ned was the glue to your small trio. He held the group together.

"I'm sorry you had to wake up to that, Peter, but I'm okay now." You whispered, pulling back, and giving his bicep a soft squeeze. He smiled down at you, ready to open his mouth to say something else, but the opportunity was lost as you heard a familiar voice echoing into your room. It was coming from the kitchen or the living room. You held your pointer finger to your lips, then smiled sweetly once the soft melodic sound of your father and mother's humming filled your ears.

It was a familiar tune, one you hadn't heard in awhile.

Peter's brows furrowed, but as soon as he heard the humming coming from your parents, he grinned goofily, having heard them singing multiple times before and witnessing them dance with each other.

"They haven't done that in awhile," you whispered in complete content, clasping both of your hands together and bringing them up to brush them across you cheek as you visibly swooned. You smiled, your eyes twinkling in happiness. "One time, I recorded them and I used that video as blackmail, threatening them that I would send it to American Idol and they almost grounded me." You had laughed, a real and sincere, eye-crinkling laugh and it had made Peter breathe out painfully, realizing that your laugh wounded him because of how beautiful it was and how he missed hearing it.

Nothing mattered but you and that damn laugh of yours.

But the laugh was gone, along with the smile as soon as you all arrived at the funeral. Peter tried to spark up a conversation or two on the way there as you rode in a limosine, but your responses were laconic. Your thoughts were elsewhere at the moment. As the casket was lowered into the ground, and as they shot off rifles, Peter would squeeze your hand reassuringly and rubbing his thumb softly over your knuckles while you tried so damn hard to hold in those tears. He watched on hopelessly, standing right next to you as you stared down at the casket that was six feet under, your breathing harsh and sporatic. He could feel it when you cringed, when you sniffled as if you were constantly trying to keep the tears from falling.

Kneeling down, you released the yellow tulip from your fingers—your grandfather's favorite flower. You didn't care if the almost muddy ground stained your dress or your knees. You still couldn't fully comprehend the event that had recently transpired. Your chest was hollow and you watched quietlt as the soft petals of the tulip landed almost noiselessly on the casket below you.

"You better be waiting for me up there, Old Man." You whispered out, sighing as Peter's hands landed gently on your shoulders. Holding your pointer, middle, and ring finger against your lips, you whispered a soft, "I love you," before touching the casket with those fingers, giving him a kiss that was filled with so much unspoken words and promises. You knew he could feel you there. You knew he could.

Peter bent down only halfway so he could help you up, knowing that you were on the verge of breaking, shattering, and becoming hollow once more. He slipped his hands around your waist, kissing your cheek swiftly before you managed a weak smile his way, letting him slip his fingers through yours. He tugged you along with him, and you gripped his hand so tight that he thought it might fall off, but he really didn't care.

And as he pulled you away, you gave one last longing look over your shoulder. A lone tear sliding down your cheek, knowing this was your final goodbye.  


	20. lost river that never reached the sea pt I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED INFINITY WAR YET THEN DON'T READ THIS! THERE WILL BE MAJOR SPOILERS!

"You gonna be okay all by yourself tonight?" Your best friend asked, a small and almost unnoticeable frown decorating her lips.

You nodded and sniffled, using the back of your hand to wipe at your wet nose. "Yeah, I'll be okay." You smiled, letting your hand fall back down to your side. "You staying the night at Sherry's tonight?" She nodded and you mumbled an 'okay', then leaned close to give her a side-hug. She returned it and then you pulled back. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"M'kay," she replied, that signature pitying look covering her face once again. "I love you."

"I love you, too." You mumbled, your words almost incoherent as you began to feel the sadness take over once more. You wanted to laugh as you turned away, walking down the railway that would eventually lead to your College Dorms. Crying over something that hadn't even really happened was pathetic. But you couldn't help it—you were so invested in this fandom that once something turned horrible—something so horrible as to a character's death—you felt a great amount of sadness spread throughout you.

Images of his death flashed and flickered through your mind, and it was like a loop that was on repeat or a slideshow that kept showing the same memories over and over again. You wanted to scream out—you were angry, more angry than you ever had been in your eighteen years of living. And you were probably just over-reacting, but you really couldn't care because of the huge sadness looming over you in barbaric waves. Inside your chest was a mountain of emotions just waiting to come tumbling down, and you didn't know if you could take it all at once. Not right now.

You noticed the quietness your college campus was filled with, the almost eeriness of it, but then again this was no University—you were going to a Community college since you lived in a small town. It wasn't expensive, but you really weren't complaining since you were working a job and were getting Financial Aid. Everything was playing out the way you hoped it would, you had a somewhat good relationship with your parents, but you hardly spoke to them anymore.

Clutching your red and blue Spider-Man hoodie closer to your frail figure, you used pushed open the doors to the Residence Hall building, but stopping shortly once you heard rustling of bushes nearby. You stopped, your hand freezing on the handle attached to the door. Looking towards the source of the noise, you breathed out sharply, hearing what sounded like a groan coming from the bushes to your right.

"Is someone there?" You whisper-yelled, hoping to get a reaction other than a groan, but that's exactly what you got back—another groan. It was coming from the Science building, and it was already pretty dark outside so the darkness had already consumed most of the area around the building except for one street light. It illuminated everything in its path, although only a small patch of area, but it was shining down on the bush that was rattling. A flicker of red and blue caught your eye, and almost instinctively your feet began to move towards the movement.

You wanted to scold yourself for walking towards the possibility of danger, "This is usually how the girls in the beginning of the movies die, Y/N..." You mumbled it to yourself, sniffling again and wiping more at your face as you cautiously neared the bush. It had stopped rustling once you got to be ten feet in front of it, and you were consumed by the eeriness once more, your nerves getting the best of you. "Is anyone there?" You whispered it softly this time, pressing your nails into the palms of your hands, surely drawing blood from how hard you pressed.

Legs were sticking out from the bush, and the pair of feet were clad in some type of metal encasing fabric—something that looked oddly familiar. It was red and blue and it was shining whenever the light glinted off it.

Bending down, you nudged the feet a little. The person shifted, but they didn't say or do anything else. You sighed and got up, knowing that you might want to take a look at their face. So, as you leaned over, hoping to get a more clear read on their features, you found yourself gasping in shock. Your hand immediately flew up to your mouth, suppressing a scream.

"Holy shit!" You reached for your phone inside your jeans pocket, fishing it out and turning up the brightness enough so you could get a better look at his face. Once you could see more of him, you felt tears of shock, joy, fear, and confusion pool in your eyes and you were crying, although, this time for a whole new reason.

There lying in your bush, on your college campus, in your damn universe was Peter Benjamin Parker.

Half an hour later, there you were looking down at a peaceful sleeping Spider-Man. You thanked the heavens above that his mask was off and your best friend for forcing you to take weightlifting classes or there would have been no other way to get this boy up to your room. Honestly, this boy was made of all muscle, like seriously! He weighed more than you thought he would, not that you were complaining because the muscles did look nice.

From what you could tell there was no evident signs of injuries on him, but he did look slightly exhausted and ridden with fatigue even if you couldn't see his actual eyes. You had laid him on your bed since it was the closest and your best friend's was on the side where the wall was. You would have to climb on top of him to put him on the other bed, and you weren't about to do that to Spider-Man. It didn't matter that you were hopelessly smitten with the fictional character.

Currently, you sat at your desk, sitting the other way on your chair with your eyes on the boy in your bed. You wanted to chuckle at that; Spider-Man in your bed? Who would have guessed? The question was, how did he even make it here in the first place, and what time did he come from?

You fought back the urge to think about his "death" that happened at the end of Infinity War, but as someone who didn't have control over their mind, the images came anyways. You cringed and with your focus solely on the sleeping Peter, you slowly leaned your cheek on your forearm, knowing that if you had to fall asleep in this chair to keep an eye on him then you would. He deserved it—he deserved better.

It was darker than ever when you opened your eyes, cursing slightly when you realized that you had fallen asleep and on your desk chair nonetheless. There were likely to be sore muscles later on.

A soft cry had your eyes flickering over to your bed, and you gasped, loud enough for Peter to startle awake. He shot up, his eyes wild and alert and his stance one of someone who was trying to protect themselves. Just as you were trying to get off of your chair, his eyes flickered over to you and they widened even more.

You stood, holding up your hands in a sign of surrender. "I would never hurt you." The phrase you spoke had you questioning how you felt, and you furrowed your brows, seizing all sort of movement. You blinked your eyes tiredly, forcing back a yawn as the poor boy scrambled into a sitting position, his hands raised towards you as if he was going to shoot some of his webbing your way.

"Wh—who are you? Where am I?" At this, he finally looked around the small yet comfy room. His eyes trying to find any sign of a threat, but once he found none, he looked back to you, his eyes growing even more wide. "Who are you?!" This time his voice grew more persistent and you could hear a hint of fear in his voice.

You stepped back and tried lowering your hands, but he aimed his shooters at you which caused you to raise them back up. You let out a breath of air, "Peter, please you need to trust me. Put the web shooters down...and I promise to tell you everything, okay? You have my word."

You wanted to cry—you felt his fear, his total and complete heartbreak, but you couldn't do anything to ease the pain. And you wanted to, oh did you want to. You wanted to protect this boy since the very beginning and he never even knew you existed. Ever since he lost his parents, to the day he lost uncle Ben, up until the very end. And now here he was, frightened and broken beyond repair and you couldn't do anything about it.

"Talk." He spoke so quietly, his voice coming out soft and small. He was terrified.

"Okay," you sighed, feeling a surge of relief. "Can I sit down?" You motioned to your desk chair, giving him kind eyes, hoping he could see the kindness you had in them—all the kindness you had for him.

He hesitated and you continued, with an even softer voice, "I won't get too close, okay?" He nodded, his protection still pointed at you. Your lips quirked up into a hopeful smile as you pulled the chair to your side; your eyes never left his, all kindness and calm, and comfort. You knew he would be frightened and confused—of course he would, he was only a kid.

He shifted on top of your bed, his hand still raised as a source of protection. "Peter," you whispered, bringing his attention back to you after letting his focus drift off to the things inside your room. "You have no reason to be afraid of me...I won't hurt you. I'm so harmless I couldn't even hurt a fly."

At that, you noticed that his arm started to slowly lower until both of his hands were resting in his lap. You gave a vague nod of approval, sensing the atmosphere shift and change to a more calming one.

"Where—do you know where I am?" His voice cracked with uncertainty, and you flinched, but gave him a nod.

"You're on Earth," you said, your eyes glistening over with unshed tears. He went quiet, saddened brown eyes examining you with confusion. You continued, taking a shaky breath, "What's the—" you cleared your throat, "Uh, sorry. What's the last thing you remember?"

At this he seemed to look down at his hands, contemplating over if he could even remember or not. "I was—" he paused, trying to find the right words to say, but as soon as he lifted his head back up to face you, his face paled slightly and his jaw fell open. "I was with Mr Stark—on Titan, we had almost won—we..." he swallowed thickly, fresh tears pooling in his eyes. You wanted to pull him into a hug like you always had whenever you caught him crying in the movies he played in. Although, they weren't movies for him—they were his life. "We couldn't—we didn't win...this time. I felt really dizzy all of sudden, like I had just got off this really fast rollercoaster... then there was this prickling on my skin—" his hands instinctively reached up to touch his cheeks. He lowered them soon after, "Then it all happened so fast and I was fading...from existence. I—I felt so alone."

All color drained from your face at the realization that this was the death scene that you had just witnessed on the big screen. Your heart dropped down to your stomach, your hands itching to wrap around him, to pull him close, to tell him that everything would be okay.

You got up quickly and suddenly, jumping when Peter raised his hands back up for precaution. "Hey," you cooed, your hands begging you to get close to him so you could comfort him. It was an itch. "Hands up here, see?" You raised them up despite the tremble in them, and took a small cautious step towards him, tears now steadily rolling down your cheeks. You kept reassuring him that you weren't going to hurt him, taking a step closer to him each time and watching closely as his guard was falling slowly.

Once you were close enough, you gave him a watery smile, letting your hand hover over his arm. You brushed your fingertips on his open palm, letting them slide up until you could pull him into your chest. He tensed, his arms limp at his sides while you buried your face into the crook of his neck.

"You don't have to hug me back," you called out, your voice scratchy and awkward. "But l want you to know that you don't have to be afraid. Even if you're scared—and confused...even if you have no idea what's going on right now. You're safe here," you pulled back, examining his features with sad watery eyes. "This is a safe place. Thanos can't hurt you here."

He was at loss for words, that much you could tell. You possibly even confused him further.

"Where is here...exactly?" He whispered, unmoving from the close proximity. "And how—how do you know about Thanos?"

This time you had to force yourself to inch back a couple of steps, letting your hands waver from his sides. You cleared your throat, and avoided his curious stare. "Okay, so bare with me on this," you glanced at him and began to pace the length in front of your bed, gnawing on your nails as the anxiety began to settle within your bones. "You're confused—probably very, completely confused correct?" He gave you a nod, but you didn't notice it since you were too busy pacing your floor. "Okay, well there's a reason for that—and it's pretty huge. You might not believe me at first, and that's okay because I wouldn't believe me either, but I want you to know that I will help you the best way I know how."

You didn't stop pacing, and only ingested a gulp of air before continuing. "Okay, so...right—you aren't in your universe. You are in my universe—which sort of sounds selfish when I put it that way...let me reword that. When you left Titan, you weren't just leaving that planet you were leaving that entire universe and appearing into another one completely different from yours, by the way. You ended up here—which is a universe where your life, plus everyone in your world, are fictional characters."

You stopped, your fingers still in your mouth as you tried to gauge his reaction. His face turned ashen, and you breathed out, your nerves on edge just in case you needed to spring into action if he were to have a panic attack.

"Peter, the reason I know so much about you—about this," you took a step closer to him, eyes wide and pleading. "Is because you are fictional in my world. For almost ten years, I have been deeply invested in this fandom, the Marvel fandom—which is what you are apart of—and I have been dreaming about this day for years. And it happened, but I wish it wouldn't have..." He tilted his head at you, his lips thinning. "Peter, your 'death' or whatever you want to call it, it absolutely killed me. I've never felt so heartbroken in my entire life. I mean—and it wasn't just you—Bucky, T'Challa, Groot, Stephen, and Quill, Wanda, and Gamora—even Fury and Maria. I mean, they all just...poof! Gone. I didn't know where you all were going to end up, but..." you gulped, exhaustion evident in your actions. You looked over at Peter, eyes saddening as you realized he had been crying. "Peter, your death hurt the most."

You had whispered it, and you weren't sure if he could hear it, but he did. Of course he did.

More images flashed through your head and you flinched as if the other times hadn't made you do the same thing. You squeezed your eyes tight, leaning back on your roommate's desk and pressing your palms to your eyes, feeling the anxiety puddle in your chest. You could feel it, mocking you and testing your limits. You wouldn't give in to it.

"Are...are you okay?"

You looked up and gawped at the boy incredulously, "You're asking me if I'm okay?" He nodded, his brows furrowing in slight confusion. "Typical of you. Of course you would ask me that." You snorted, pushing yourself off the desk and shrugging off your Spider-Man hoodie before tossing it at the foot of the your bed. "Peter, don't worry about me, please. I'll get over it...eventually. Just like any other character death I've seen."

You walked over to your mini fridge and opened it, bending down to retrieve a bottle of water. This wasn't for you, of course. You knew Peter must have been thirsty as all hell. "Here," you handed him the bottle of water, blushing when your fingers brushed against his accidentally. "You're probably starved. Had you eaten before you got on the bus that day?"

He shook his head, his lips wrapped around the tip of the bottle as he gulped down excessive amounts of the liquid. You knew he was thirsty and if he was thirsty then he must have been hungry.

"We can go get something to eat, I hardly stay here anymore so I never think to buy food." You offered, grabbing your hoodie off your bed. You hesitated with the offer, knowing that you couldn't let him get caught if he were to be outside. "Or I can go pick something up really quick and you can stay here—"

"No!" He sputtered, his eyes wide and alive with panic. "Please, I...I don't want to be by myself...not again."

You gave him a reassuring nod, tugging your hoodie closer to your frame. As he began to get up from the bed, you stopped him. "You can't go dressed in your suit. I don't want to risk you getting caught."

He shuffled on his feet awkwardly as pink dusted his cheeks. "I don't have...anything to wear."

Realization dawned on you, and your lips shaped into an 'O'. "Ah, right. You left your backpack on the bus before you..." You let the words fade out, not wanting to bring it up anymore than he did. You turned around from his curious gaze, and shuffled over to your drawer, pulling out a pair of sweats that he would definitely fit into and your old ACDC shirt. "Here," you handed them to him and gestured towards the bathroom to your right. "Go change—I'll wait out here."

He gave you a shy nod, then shuffled off to the bathroom, but before he could shut door behind him he turned to you, "What's your name?" His voice was small and fragile.

You turned to face him, giving him a genuine smile. "Y/N."

"Thank you, Y/N." He whispered. "For, well, you know—"

You stopped his rambling with a light-hearted laugh, "Please, you don't need to thank me."

The confusion on his face made him look more adorable if that were possible. How his head tilted slightly to the side, or when the crease between his brows deepened, and even that small pout that had gone unnoticed by him. It was like he was shocked that there could be someone out there that was possibly even more kind than he was—which was impossible. You knew that Peter was it. He was the sweetest out of the Avengers, or possibly any Marvel character you knew about.

As he gave you a small nod, he walked into the restroom and changed quickly, coming out not even five minutes later with his suit in his hand. You told him he could set the suit on your desk for the minute and he did so. You handed him a huge hoodie one that you only wore in the winter and it fit him perfectly—just enough to cover his face. Just enough to where no one would notice him, and maybe no one would since you lived in a very small town.

Grabbing your car keys, you slipped into your running shoes and beckoned for the boy to follow you. "Just stay close to me," you whispered to him, letting your arm brush against his. "Please. I really don't want any Fangirls stealing you away from me."

He nodded, scooting even more closer to your side as the two of you walked out of the dorms and down to the parking lot where your Ford truck was. You started it up and waited for Peter to hop in, and when you did you wasted no time and drove off.

The silence was killing you as you came up to a stoplight, playing with the silver ring on your pointer finger while your other hand drummed aimlessly on the steering wheel. "I know you probably don't want to hear this right now," you started, capturing Peter's attention. You could practically feel his anxiety coming off him in waves. "But you might need to wait awhile for anything to get set into motion. Like everything with Thanos and Carol—"

"Carol?" He questioned, shifting in the passenger seat.

"Captain Marvel," you grinned. "You don't know her. Not yet, I don't think. You'll meet her soon."

You were jealous. Captain Marvel was one of your favorites—aside from Peter obviously.

The light turned green and you stepped on the pedal, going forward and driving past multiple cars and other trucks much more smaller or larger than yours.

"It's so weird that you know so much...about me, and about my world," He said, his voice growing more relaxed as he snuck glances at you while you drove.

You gave him a side-glance, and frowned. "I can stop if it's too weird for you."

You wanted to know more though, like the things they never showed in the movies or the comics. There was more that wasn't being shared about his world, more that you hadn't known and wanted to. You were starved of information—thirsty for the small details.

"No, no. It's okay. I swear," he held up his hands, the sleeves of your hoodie sliding down his hands and past his wrists. "I'm just—" he paused. "It's a lot to take in, you know?"

"I do." You nodded softly, "And I won't lie, I'm beyond curious."

He went quiet for a few seconds, his brows furrowed and his lips thinning. He was looking down at his hands as if they would have the answers for him and he knew there wouldn't be, he knew you wouldn't know everything—like his way home and many other numerous possibilities that he didn't want to think about at the moment.

So he turned to you, and gave you a vague nod. "Okay, shoot. Ask me anything."

Shocked coursed through you, and every single glance you snuck his way your eyes were wide and questioning. "Really?" He gave you another nod, smiling softly. Wow, you loved that smile. "Okay, uh—well I've always been curious about your Spidey senses," You offered, gripping the steering wheel tightly in your hand, your eyes on the road as you spoke. "Do you get sensory overloads?"

He wasn't expecting that sort of question from you; it was obvious in his features as his lips parted slightly, but there were no words coming out of them. After a quiet moment, he nodded. "Y-yeah actually. I've gotten a couple since the incident."

You nodded. "Okay quick question that isn't of the Marvel variety—" you giggled, "What are we in the mood for? Burger King or Taco Bell? And please tell me you have both of those in your universe because if you didn't—"

"We do." He smiled over at you, his brows furrowed. You were an odd one. "Burger King sounds amazing, to be honest."

You hummed in agreement and pulled up into the drive thru area. "You got good taste, my friend, and since I haven't eaten anything today I am staaaaarving."

Half an hour later, the two of you were sitting inside of your car and at your college's parking lot. Your hand was wrapped around your bacon cheeseburger, while the other one held onto your large soda, the straw stuck between your lips as you sipped. You sat it down in between your thighs, shifting in your spot to get comfortable.

"I don't have as much questions as I thought I would." You pouted, glaring down at your food. "Peter," your voice came out barely above a whisper, but he heard it. He gave you an expectant look, taking a bite from his burger before lowering his food from his mouth. He was preparing himself for you to ask a sad question, or something he didn't want to answer from the sound of your voice. "Why didn't you stay on the bus?"

To say he was caught off guard from your question was an understatement. He gulped, swallowing around the lump that had formed in his throat. His anxiety was still there, just on the cusp of making an entrance so the question had made his heart spike.

"I—I don't know," he hung his head. "Running from the fight isn't something I can just do. When I see danger I need to protect anyone I can—as much as I can."

You nodded, giving him a small smile, "Yeah. I figured you'd say that." It went quiet, and the two of you sat in silence. You couldn't really describe how the silence made you feel, but you were still trying your hardest not to freak out. Peter Parker was sitting in your car eating Burger King with you, and in your universe. You laughed, "I can't believe you're actually here."

He laughed with you, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. "Me either."

It went silent again, and you adverted your eyes away from him, feeling his eyes on you every once in awhile.

"We should go back inside," you offered and began to gather your things, throwing your food wrappers into the bag, having Peter do the same before stuffing it in the back. "I have work in the morning and it's like midnight."

He nodded, still not knowing what to say. But he followed you as you walked up the stairs to your room, staying glued to your side and blushing every time his hand accidentally brushed against your thigh or your own tinier hand.

"You can sleep on my roommate's bed," you offered quietly, using your elbow to push the door open after unlocking it. You walked in and shut it as Peter stepped inside, instantly going over to the other bed that he hadn't woken up on. He sat there and watched as you slip out of your shoes then your hoodie that you wore quite often. You smiled as you turned around, catching his gaze on you and feeling your insides grow fuzzy. "Uh, here," you walked over to your closet and grabbed another sweater off a hanger before handing it to him. "It'll help you sleep."

After you handed it to him, he looked down at it with furrowed brows then turned it over and caught the 'Midtown School of Science & Technology' logo on it. His breath hitched and his eyes widened a fraction. The sweater looked almost completely like the one he had at home, but it was a darker blue.

He looked back up at you, all sincerity shown in his softening gaze. "Th—thank you, Y/N."

You nodded and climbed on top of your bed, "I just thought it might help you sleep better if you wore something that reminded you of home." You watched him shuffle out of the other hoodie, handing it over to you with all kindness in his face, then pulled the other one over his head, smiling as it fit him just as perfectly as his had.

"Do you always buy sweaters that are two sizes too big?" He joked, causing you to giggle. You were happy that he was beginning to get more comfortable around you.

"I find them very comfortable, if you must know." You gave him a playful roll of your eyes, settling under your blankets and resting your head on your pillow. You watched him do the same, snuggling up in the blankets and turned on his side so he could be faced towards you.

Since you wore sweats today, you didn't bother in putting something else on for bed. You always found sweats more comfortable to sleep in.

Minutes after trying to get comfortable, Peter's facial muscles finally began to relax, and he let out a yawn. You watched adoringly as his eyelids began to droop, and you didn't care that you were staring too long, or if it was weird or not. He hadn't even noticed that you were watching anyways.

"Goodnight, Y/N." He said, his voice lowering as sleep sounded heavy in his tone.

"Goodnight, Peter..." 


	21. lost river that never reached the sea pt II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SPOILERS OF INFINITY WAR AHEAD! MENTIONS OF IT AT LEAST! BE PREPARED.

You woke up with the warmth of the sunlight greeting your face. You stilled and blinked the tiredness away from your eyes, and turned over to get a good look at the sleeping boy beside you, but your heart dropped down to your stomach when your eyes met with an empty bed. You sat up frantically, running your fingers through your hair to untangle most of it.

Last night couldn't have been just a dream, could it? You felt your insides churn uneasily, your breathing erratic as you searched for any possibility that maybe last night never happened... you hoped it wasn't just a dream – a cruel dream, maybe.

You slid off the side of your bed, breathing harshly as your palms grew sweaty. Tears began to pool in your eyes, but you froze and quickly turned in the direction of your bathroom as the door swung open.

His brown curls were tousled, his eyes heavy with sleep and dark bags under them. He still wore the sweater and he looked the same as last night before you both said goodnight.

You could feel your heart slowing down, growing more calm at the sight of him. He could sense your panic from the moment he laid eyes on you, with your tangled hair falling out of the bun that you had slept in, or the way you had lost color in your cheeks.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asked hesitantly, taking a couple of steps towards you.

You breathed out, then nodded. "Y-yeah. Sorry, I just thought—I thought..." he stepped closer, worry getting the best of him as he noticed a lone tear slide steadily down your cheek. "I guess I'm just having second thoughts on whether or not your real... or if this is just a figment of my imagination." He gave you an odd look, and you continued. "It all feels surreal. I didn't see you when I woke up, so... so, I sort of freaked...out."

"I'm just as real as you are." He elucidated fervently.

You eyed him like you were seeing him for the first time, like you were trying to figure him out more. Nodding your head, you walked past him, wiping away your tears just as you shielded your face from him sights. "I gotta get ready for work," you whispered hoarsely, bending down to grab a pair of jeans and a flannel before standing back up and turning to look at him with a softening gaze as he climbed back onto the bed. "I'm gonna give you my old cell phone just in case anything happens, okay?"

He gave you a nod and you searched for it inside your desk drawer, pulling it out and turning it on. You turned on the Wi-Fi, and opened up Facebook Messenger before walking over to him and chucking it onto the bed. "I have messenger opened—" you said, cheeks flushing. "Please don't go through the messages. Only message me when you need something. You can go on anything else, play games," you gestured behind you with your thumb, "I have a PS4, so don't be afraid to play any of the games I have and I have movies, and if you need to shower you can use the shower. If you're hungry, you might want to wait until I get off work so we can go get some food. Or I can just bring some food from work and we can eat that—" you stopped yourself from rambling on, noticing the look that Peter was giving you. He was biting his lip to keep himself from laughing, you just knew it.

"I work on campus, so please, don't be afraid to message me if you need me. For anything. I'll drop everything and—and I'll be here....okay?"

He nodded, giving you a softening gaze as you fidgeted with the clothes in your hands. "I will."

You sighed in relief, nodding as well. "Okay, good. I'm gonna change now." You awkwardly backpedalled into the bathroom, smiling shyly at him as he watched you disappear through the door.

Once you were inside you shut it closed and locked it. You leaned your back softly on the door, breathing deeply, feeling your insides churn with a feeling you couldn't decipher. A feeling you didn't want to decipher or even feel at the moment. Ever since you found him last night, thoughts about how you were going to get him home clouded your head. You had no clue how that was supposed to happen – you didn't even know if he was supposed to go back in the first place. Maybe this was his afterlife. Maybe this was where he was meant to be. In a place where he would feel alone because know one knew about him.

Your heart hammered at the thought. You didn't want that for him – you didn't want that for anybody.

Halfway through putting your sweater on, a thought crossed your mind. A very crazy and probably-not-true thought, but it was a thought nonetheless. You jumped into your jeans, and threw the door open, startling Peter as you walked out of the bathroom.

"I just had a thought," you raised your pointer finger into the air to emphasize your words. Peter waited for you with a questioning gaze. "Peter, if you ended up here then that means all the others made it here as well, right? I mean, where else would that purple thumb send you? He wouldn't separate you all—no he wouldn't have control over that. He may be powerful, but he isn't a God."

Peter perked up at the mention of the others, "Who else—" he gulped, "Died?"

You swallowed, "A lot of others that I wasn't ready for," your eyes shined once Bucky's bright smile flashed through your head. "Bucky might be here! Oh, my god." You were filled with an odd giddiness at the mere thought of getting to meet Bucky, who was your first Marvel crush.

Peter's face fell slightly, jealousy getting the best of him. Selfishness. He needed to stop that. But of course, this went unnoticed by you as you hurried around your room, grabbing your purse and cell-phone, not bothering in grabbing your car keys since you worked on campus.

"So, does that mean that they would be able to help me get back? If they're here, like you said, then that means they might know more." His voice was filled with so much hope that you froze your movements, turning around to give him a small smile. Once again, you ran your fingers through your hair—a thing you did when you were anxious—and you gave him a nod. His eyes brightened at that, and you could feel your heart soar at the sight.

"I refuse to believe anything other than that," you answered, tightening your grip on the strap of your bag. It went silent as you stared at one another, determination settled in your bones. Peter could feel a swell of pride resonate within him as he stared at you and your never wavering ability to not give up hope. You reminded him of himself – or at least a part of himself.

"Thank you again," he said as you turned around and gripped the doorknob, readying yourself to open it. "For everything."

You breathed out and looked over your shoulder at the boy, giving him a nod. "Don't mention it, Parker." Then without another word, you were off to work. You had this job for almost a year now, having first started at the ripe age of seventeen – now you were eighteen and still there. You loved working with the kids at the day-care center, although not being such a fan of younger children, you could put up with the children you worked with – they were different. Yes, they got on your nerves, but weren't every toddler and infant that way?

Once you made it to work, you began to count down the minutes in which you would be able to get back to the room to see Peter, but as soon as you realized that your roommate/best friend would be there today, your heart dropped. Almost immediately, you fished your phone out of your pocket and dialled her number, anxiously biting at your fingernails for what felt like the thousandth time in two days.

Your best friend picked up on the third ring, chirping her greeting. "Hiya. How are you feeling? I'm almost at the dorm—"

You cut her off, face palling. "No!" It went quiet, your co-workers giving you an odd look. You pressed your phone closer to your cheek, "I mean, h-hey, um – I'm sick. Like really sick, so you can't come. I refuse to get you sick too. Stay at Sherry's for a couple more days, please. For your safety."

She groaned, "You're sick,  _again_?" You mumbled back an eager ' _yes_ ' before she continued to talk your ear off about getting good amounts of rest and to take your meds on time and to clean the sheets before she got back in a couple of days. You nodded along to everything she said, just relieved that she wouldn't be at the dorms for a couple of days. Like she would believe Peter Parker actually came here from another dimension. Yeah,  _no_.

"Okay, well, get some rest and I'll see you later, I guess."

You breathed out a sigh of relief, "Okay. Okay. I'll see you later. I love you."

"I love you too, weirdo." She laughed breathlessly, making you grin at the nickname.

After she hung up, you stuffed your phone into your back pocket and turned back around to face your one of your co-workers. Her brows were raised in confusion, her hand holding the assistant phone as it was halfway to her ear. "You aren't really sick, are you?" You rolled your eyes and walked off, ignoring her persistency.

Seven hours had gone by, and you were finally off. Anxiousness settled deep within the pit of your stomach as you hurried back home. Your keys jiggling in your hand as you twirled them around. You could feel yourself giving into the anxiety – something wasn't right. Your perception on being able to sense something off was uncanny – your intuition was almost always right.

As you reached the dorms and walked up the steps to your floor, you couldn't ignore the looks you were getting as others who lived in the dorm walked past you. They weren't nasty glares, but they sure weren't doe-eyed expressions. It was a mix between curiousness and worry and annoyance. You couldn't for the life of you shrug it off—had they found out about your little house guest? All thoughts faded as soon as you heard a heart-stopping cry of pain coming from your room. It was a deep guttural sound. It made your nerves spike and your heart hammer against your ribcage. You ran past the other students, dodging past them in a hurry to get to Peter.

Several scenarios fogged up your thoughts, and trembling fingers fiddled with the keys to your room as you fumbled with them, trying to unlock the door as fast as you could. You held your breath as you burst through the door, slamming it as you slipped through, your eyes wildly searching for any sign of Peter. You found him hunched over in the corner of your room, his hands over his ears and his eyes slammed shut. He was rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet.

You immediately dropped your bag and keys and ran over to his side, hands hovering over his hunched form. "Peter? Hey, what is it? What's wrong, sweetheart?"

His words were crowded together and some were missing. His sentences were fragmented and his thoughts jumped from one thing to another. He was in some type of mental free-fall, unable to analyze things or assess risk. All you managed to get out was little incoherent mumbles of words that you couldn't quite understand.

"Peter, tell me what's wrong? You're scaring me." You pleaded.

He gripped onto your wrist, startling you. He spoke without looking up at you, "Sensory overload."

"Okay, what do you need me to do?" You whispered, rubbing his back softly, drawing patterns there. You noticed he was finally out of the sweater, your old ACDC shirt drenched in sweat.

"Cl—close the blinds, pl—please."

Almost instantly, you got up and closed the blinds, keeping the 5'oclock sunset from sneaking inside your room. You walked back over to him, kneeling down to his level and eyeing him with colossal amount of concern. "Focus on one thing at a time," You whispered, touching your palm to his shoulder blade. "Focus on my voice, okay?"

"It's... It's all too—too much. I can't—" He was panting now, his eyes unfocused as he lifted his head up slightly to lock eyes with you. "It's too much, Y/N."

"Oh, Pete," you whispered out painfully, scooting closer to him so you could wrap him into a comforting hug. "Focus on my voice. That's all you have to do. Just focus –  _please focus_."

He nodded, burrowing his face into your neck and wrapping his arms almost too tight around your waist. You blushed, feeling your heart hammer in your chest at the close proximity.

You knew he didn't need to hug you to focus on your voice, so you were a little caught off guard, but slowly eased into it. He was warm – his warmth radiating off him in waves. You loved being this close to him even despite the circumstances. Not a single fatuous thought went through your mind as you pulled him closer against you, gently rubbing his back as you situated yourself up against the wall beside you. You leaned against the hard exterior behind you, and Peter rested his head in your lap with his arms still wrapped around you. Technically his head was propped up against your stomach, and you wondered if he could hear the terrifyingly harsh beating of your heart.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you barely noticed the soft snores coming from Peter. Your eyes crinkling in a sort of softness at the corners as you watched him sleep peacefully, his face pressed almost uncomfortably to your stomach. You sighed contently, brushing a few of his brown curls from his face to admire his raw beauty. Minutes had passed, and all you did was watch him. That probably sounded creepy to someone, but you could care less.

You could start to feel yourself dozing off the longer you stared at him, and your head slowly fell back against the wall behind you. Exhaustion took over your senses and you found yourself falling asleep to the sound of his soft snores and your fingers through his hair. 


	22. Unbelievably Needy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have some slight smut :')

“Someone missed me,” you laugh as Peter’s arms anchor around your waist, pressing himself into you as tightly as he could. You didn’t mind it though because you secretly adored this needy side of him - it always made you feel more than special and for being with someone who feels that it’s in his blood to make you feel that, he sure does it a lot. 

He unwraps himself from you only to capture your lips with his own, you center yourself, curling one hand through his unkempt brown curls while the other plants itself on his broad shoulder, steadying yourself. “You. Have. No. Clue.” With each word he pulls away and recaptures your lips with twice the fervency. 

You also can’t help but notice the bulge growing, pressed lightly into your inner thigh, provoking a hum of pleasure from you. His hands roam you, pawing needily, wanting you closer than before somehow creating enough friction between you to prompt you to hike your leg up to his side. 

He reacts quickly and holds your leg there, slowly pushing you against the wall behind you, pressing further into you - “I missed you,” he tugs on your lower lip and you whine. “So much.” 

     “Then do something about it.”  


End file.
